








































































































































































» • i 



* - 

* A > • 

* <v *<^ 7 " , 0 V <5 

a v ^ , 0 * 



* 0 ><V. 

i>it* A i 

o «* * 3 ♦ 

1 l*fr • r^Nv - <* 



O # —■k&i*- * 

; 


• * 

4 ^ <£* 



.& S ,, o • . * 

*. ° yT ,* 

^o V* •■ 

>° ♦ ~,, //u », 

v v o ^. To «- 0 ° V 

: V* ; ^fe' W •' 

• c5 >^ *° wm § : 

* S \ # w ** ^ fl> 

.» .n * _ a A 4. ^* 1 -y 



..•• ,0 


0 * .“_*. % 
c ♦* 




* «? V, 

\' <* *'TTT 4 < 6 * ^ 

<G> b o * « a <£. ,>v 

k 4FIU/SjCO ■* 



cv V'***»-« 

a n r 

' A' 

: >v 

«• „* v v 


5 V 


x r <» *^7vf»' .c* ’o, .<v 

/ .•iL*‘. ^ , 0 * .• l, *« o , 4 > 

• -x*sax\ ^ r 0 ♦\*pv727b 3 * O .]■» • 


D v*. 



* ^ vj • 

* . < 1 * -*<v • 

at- C' ”, 

"’ & % * 

v s «*• 


1 • o- ^ 
? ^ • 



> © 0 " 0 * 


O V 


^ v 

a v V> * ** 

^ *!••- *> \ 




♦ _ 




> * > v 

V 'O. 

* r ° v o 

- 7x - V ♦V/f^C- ° 

*. *^o* *o 

: s °« *. 

♦ -K o ' 



> '•* A' "*> 

C> jA 0 0 * • 4 <> 

O 

* v> .V*,- ^ 

° ^ * ^fii^. ^ o 

o <0 *7\ 

V V « 

sO <£> * ^ -»- t a.*' t • # 

*. *"’• y °* *.r.* *0 

•MA'. ^ *j£fe** \> A* .* 

• l?Wv y-V : . 

^ • **• * <* <y c 0 “ 0 -* 

* -JV - C° ,*W/0fe,\ °o A ,\^w> •%. 




;• ^ . 

-a ...•* .o° ^ ‘-r.\• • a- 

'♦ c\ 4 <y * 

14 *fjL .A * a(£v,5> * ,£. /> ' i 

* ^.aWa.^ ^ 


* *s s « . v v *^f#£4ir» <iv v j, . 

o '«.»• A ^ +, ?V ,* * tz> 

<o &$y © ®" • 4 <j>, t 



O « 



JLp VV * ’ 

i V * T/y/iw* k - 

o ^ -^a*f,‘ a> 

^0 * e , y * aY 



# -v 





V ‘^1% 'cv A - 

j- *jd^'« <&. «$ •' 


4 v* ° 

* v ° 



* 4>* %■ ‘ 

,A • 


'O, '«>'* 1 * A 



t . * • *, ”*b 

jp^. 

<y °^. ■■•• a° >f. 

^ ^ vv 

* V v * 

, V & *.^3^,* a.v °. 

.. ... A <\ *^777’ <y \o -.. 

- ^oV . WjO * ^ 0 X *1 »- 

’ > 0-, w ’^Wm' f 9 * 



’o. *•'.» - A 



o 

V 


* r o . 


^ *"’* .. - 4 * 

’ * *- > V % c\ 


m> XI tS * 



f 4 




AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE 



WITH DOCUMENTS, NOTES, 

AND 

SIX ORIGINAL LETTERS OF SILVIO PELLICO. 

* 


TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL , WITH NOTES , 

BY 

C. ARRIVABENE. 



i 


LONDON: 

L. BOOTH, 307 REGENT STREET, W. 

1862. 




I 





LONDON: 

Printed by Stranoeways & Walden, 
Castle St. Leicester Sq. 


TRANSLATOR’S PREFACE. 



Although forty years have now elapsed since the 
events related in the following pages, the memory 
of the sufferings endured by the Italian patriots 
who were the first victims of Austrian wrath has 
not died away in England. 

Time has at length brought disaster to the 
House of Hapsburg; while the public opinion of 
Europe has conducted the Italian question to an 
almost complete and satisfactory issue. The undue 
and mischievous influence which Austria exercised 
over the fair Peninsula of the South has been de¬ 
stroyed by the cannon of Palestro, of Magenta, 
and of Solferino. It is true that something still 
remains to be done; but the achievements of the 
past foretell those of the future. 

As Italian matters stand now, it would perhaps 
appear that a translation of Memoirs which revert 



IV 


translator's preface. 


to the first serious, but fruitless, attempt made by 
the Italians to shake off the unbearable yoke of 
Austria, would scarcely be of much interest to 
English readers. I think, however, that, when it 
is remembered that Count John Arrivabene’s Me¬ 
moirs especially dwell upon the incidents of the 
political trial got up by Erancis I. at Venetia—a 
trial of which Fellico’s Mie Prigioni, and An- 
dryane's Memoirs of a Prisoner of State , scarcely 
make mention—the work will be accepted by the 
English public as a valuable contribution to Italian 
history. 

Another consideration has induced me to make 
this translation. The Memoirs of Count John 
Arrivabene are devoid of the angry feeling which 
is generally traceable in such works. They are, 
moreover, if I may be allowed to say so, the true 
reflection of a noble and pure nature, which even 
the sufferings of exile could not pervert. 

The book I now offer to the English public 
is one which will teach men to endure with 
Christian resignation the hard trials of life, and to 
turn the lessons of misfortune to the benefit of 
mankind. This is not only an opinion of my own 







translator’s preface. 


V 


(which might be suspected by those who know 
how nearly I am related to the author); it is shared 
by Count John Arrivabene’s many English friends, 
as well as by his fellow-countrymen, amongst the 
latter of whom I may mention Gioberti, who in 
1847 thus wrote concerning the Memoirs :•—“Ar¬ 
rivabene’s book is divine. I have found in it but 
one fault, that of being too short. The style is 
clear, natural, and full of grace. The author proves 
himself to be endowed with great powers of im¬ 
agination. Did you notice those charming descrip¬ 
tions? In Arrivabene I always esteemed the man 
and the author; but I assure you that, after read¬ 
ing his book, I love and esteem him more.” 

The fact of the Memoirs having been already 
translated into Erench, and being, I believe, on 
the eve of appearing in German, shows that Gio¬ 
berti was not mistaken in so highly commending 
them. 

A selection of new and important documents, 
and six original letters of Silvio Pellico, were added 
by the Author to his narrative. 

To those documents, and to the Memoirs them¬ 
selves, I have appended several notes ; some origi- 

ci 2 


VI 


translator’s preface. 

nal, and others quoted from Pellico’s Mie Prigioni , 
Andryane’s Memoirs , and Maroncelli’s Addizioni. 

I cannot doubt that a book containing so much 
of modern Italian history will meet with the sym¬ 
pathy of English readers. In that case, I shall feel 
proud of having brought the work of my relative— 
a man, for whom I feel the greatest affection and 
gratitude—before the generous nation which has 
done so much for my country, and which will, 
undoubtedly, support the Italians until they have 
completed the glorious task of their national re¬ 
demption. 

Brook Street , Grosvenor Square , 

London , January 1862. 


AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 


However large a part may have been taken by 
individuals in the important events which have 
happened during their life, public opinion is gene¬ 
rally severe towards those who publish their own 
Memoirs. Neither the importance of the revela¬ 
tions which they contain, nor their literary merit, 
is sufficient to save them from the imputation of 
vanity. It would appear, therefore, that I, in pub¬ 
lishing these Memoirs — I, who almost inactively 
have seen pass before me the grand drama of a 
century crowded with portentous facts—should 
merit a judgment peculiarly unfavourable. 

But mine is not an ordinary case. I have been 

imprisoned, and afterwards condemned to capital 

punishment. The causes of this hard fate are but 

little known in my own country, and, perhaps, 

entirely unknown in the countries in which I have 
«/ 

lived an exile. They might be supposed to be of a 




viii author’s preface. 

nature which would cast a stain upon the character. 
The defence of my reputation requires, therefore, 
that they should be fully known. Hence the 
necessity of publishing these Memoirs myself. 
Added to this, I have arrived so near the natural 
termination of my days, that they might almost 
be considered as Memoirs from beyond the tomb ; 
and, besides, as the title shows, they refer to only 
a brief epoch in my life. 

With the exception of some new notes, I pub¬ 
lish these Memoirs as they were written twenty-two 
years ago, when I was bowed down by adversity. 
I do this to place before the reader the picture of 
my mind in a state which may be considered as a 
test of the strength with which the human soul is 
gifted. 

Having in my possession some letters of Silvio 
Pellico, addressed to me, I have put my modesty 
on one side, and, considering how much is said of 
him in this work, and how the smallest production 
of his pen bears the impress of his pure and lofty 
mind, I think that I am doing a good action, and 
fulfilling almost a duty, in making them known to 
the public. 


Turin , 1860. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER I. 

Early Studies and Aspirations. 

The Author’s motives for publishing liis Experiences — 
Italian Struggles in the early part of the Present Century 
—The Author’s Friends — He visits Switzerland—The 
Revolution in Spain, and its influence on the Author— 
He opens a School in Mantua—It is closed by order of 
the Austrian Government—Visit of the Author to Tus¬ 
cany— The first Italian Steamboat—Silvio Pellico re¬ 
quests the Author to join the Carbonari — He refuses— 
Arrest of Pellico ...... 1-20 

CHAPTER II. 

The Piedmontese Revolution. 

Illness of Confalonieri — Consultation at Pecchio’s Country- 
house with reference to the expected Revolution in 
Piedmont — The Author contributes 1000 francs in aid 
of the Piedmontese Patriots—He borrows that sum of a 
Friend—Rising at Alessandria . . . 21-28 


CHAPTER III. 

A Political Arrest. 

Ominous Visit to the Author at Zaita—He is taken by 
force to Mantua—His House in Mantua is searched 



X 


CONTENTS. 


for Papers—He is conveyed to the office of the Police 
— Is kept under arrest at his own House — His Servant 
advises him to fly—He refuses, and is removed in charge 
of the Police — Arrival at Venice — The Prison—The 
Author is taken before the Judges—His Examination— 
Delicate Position of Pellico—The Author has a Fever— 
His Medical Attendant—He is taken to the Island of San 
Michele—Horrible Dungeon—Renewed Interrogations 
by the Judges—The Author is permitted to walk in the 
Prison Garden—Conversation of two Fishermen on Car- 
bonarism—Prison Thoughts and Diversions—Count La- 
derchi of Faenza—Professor Ressi—Arrest of Scalvini, 
and his subsequent Release—Fears of the Author—Sug¬ 
gestion of the Judge, Salvotti — The Revue Encyclope- 
dique —Further Examinations before the Commission — 
The Author’s Defence—Daily Life in Prison—Character 
of the Turnkeys—The Soldiers disposed to receive Pre¬ 
sents—The Venetian Cemetery—Maroncelli—The Au¬ 
thor set free—He gives a Dinner to his Prison Com¬ 
panions— The Countess Albrizzi — The Princess Gon- 
zaga—Count Gardani — A grateful Cattle-merchant — 
The Author is feted — He fears being imprisoned a 
second time—Arrest of Mompiani and Borsieri 29-82 

CHAPTER IV. 

Flight into Switzerland. 

Preparations for Departure—The Author proceeds to Brescia 
in company with a Friend—Scalvini and Camillo Ugoni 
determine on leaving Italy — Difficulty of the Passports 
overcome—They are aided in their Project—A generous 
Man—Ascent of Mount Colma — Suspicious Inn—New 
Friends — An ominous Adventure — A ragged and for¬ 
bidding, but honest Guide—The Mountain-pass of Zapei 
della Briga—Rain and Darkness — The Custom House 


CONTENTS. 


XI 


Officers passed in Safety—The Frontier crossed—Arrival 
at Geneva—Bonstetten — Sismondi—The Fugitives re¬ 
side for twelve days on “Rousseau’s Island”—M. Prati 
—Voyage down tlie Rhine to Strasbourg—Effect of Gold 
on an unwilling Landlord — Arrival in Paris—The Au¬ 
thor accused of High Treason by the Commission of 
Milan — The Advocate Teste generously strives to save 
the Author’s Property from Sequestration—Visit of the 
Author to England—His Condemnation to Death by the 
Austrian Authorities—The Lessons of Adversity—Con¬ 
clusion ....... 83-111 


Papers and Notes Illustrative of 
the Memoirs. 

Notification of the Government of Milan . 115 

Citation of ditto . . . . * . . .119 

Edict of ditto . . . . . . .121 

Sentence on Political Offenders . . .131 

Austrian State Pafer.141 

Part taken by Count Federico Confalonieri in 

the Conspiracy . . . . . .156 

Crime of Alessandro Andryane . . .177 

Rossetti’s Song.198 

Manzoni’s Song.213 

Letters of Silvio Pellico . . . . .217 





AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


CHAPTER I. 

EARLY STUDIES AND ASPIRATIONS. 

The greater part of my life has been passed in 
obscurity, without vicissitudes, without events wor¬ 
thy either of being noted or narrated. During 
a short period, nevertheless, circumstances occurred 
to me which, when related, generally awaken sym¬ 
pathy ; besides which I took a part—a small one, 
•it is true, but still a part—in events which belong 
to the history of my country, conjointly with men, 
all more or less worthy, and some famous for the 

■v. 

sufferings they underwent. 

To relate these events—to state truthfully 
some particulars respecting these men and their 
fate — I have thought to be the duty of a good 
citizen, and, at the same time, a work interesting 
to my fellow-men. 

Another consideration also has induced me to 
do so. The attempts made by us in 1S21 to 

B 





2 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


ameliorate the political condition of Italy were 
fruitless. From that time, the sanctity of the cause, 
the purity of our intentions, and the social po¬ 
sition of the greater number, did not suffice 
to protect us from the attacks of calumny. We 
were accused of intending to subvert thrones, 
religion, and morality, and of holding cruel and 
sanguinary ideas. This simple narrative will 
clearly show how false such accusations were.* 

In writing these pages I have taken the great¬ 
est care to guard myself, as much as possible, as 
one would from false friends, from all complaints 
of my fate—all declaiming against my adversaries ; 
and this out of respect to my readers and to 
myself, and also from my own self-love; for in¬ 
temperance of language, instead of exciting com¬ 
passion in the generality of men for the victims 
of political struggles, closes the hearts even of 
those who hold common sentiments and opinions 
with themselves; whilst, on the contrary, by 
dignified submission to an inevitable destiny, and 
by the absence of vain lamentations, they force 
their very enemies to esteem them.f I have 
abstained from passing judgment on the con¬ 
duct of my adversaries, because my opinions 
could not be otherwise than partial, and conse- 



* See Appendix. -f Ibid. 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


3 


quently would have no weight. I relate the truth ; 
let every one judge for himself. 

That period of my life of which I am speaking 
comprehends principally the years 1820, 1821, 
and 1822. To clearly understand it, it is neces¬ 
sary that the reader should cast a rapid glance 
with me over the years immediately preceding it. 

When, in 1805, Napoleon established the 
kingdom of Italy, I was eighteen years of age. 
The kingdom lasted nine years; and I, in the 
bloom of youth, passed those years, so full of great 
events, in the most complete and shameful idle¬ 
ness, scarcely concerning myself at all about 
public matters : it was only after the fall of the 
kingdom of Italy that I began to take them 
seriously to heart. I saw, as it were, a plant 
rooted up, which, had it been allowed to grow, 
would have become, favoured by circumstances, 
a goodly tree, whose shade would have spread 
over the whole of Italy. My grief was unbounded. 
The laws, the army, the coinage, the men—every¬ 
thing, in short, of the fallen kingdom—I loved; to 
all that was substituted by the new government 
I took an aversion. Then arose in me an ardent 
desire for Italian independence—for liberal institu¬ 
tions. This desire I fed and stimulated with the 
perusal of all the books and French journals I 



4 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


could procure. I made those who felt with me 
on political matters partake of this forbidden 
fruit; the indifferent, and those who held contrary 
opinions, had also their share; and even some 
portion fell to the civil Italian authorities, as well 
as to the Austrian military ones. In the frequent 
excursions which I made to various cities in Italy, 
the ties of old friendships were strengthened, and 
new ones were formed with men whose opinions, 
wishes, and hopes, were in conformity with my 
own. 

Amongst the old friends I count first, in Milan, 
Confalonieri, Berchet, and Pecchio ; in Brescia, the 
brothers Ugoni and Scalvini.* My acquaintance 

* Count Confalonieri was born in the year 1787. He 
was equerry to the Prince Eugene Beauharnais during the 
time the kingdom of Italy lasted. But, in 1814, when the 
great Napoleonic era had closed, Confalonieri was amongst 
those Milanese noblemen who opposed the election of 
Beauharnais as King of Italy. The result of that opposi¬ 
tion was, that the Austrians established themselves in 
Lombardy and Venetia. Confalonieri, together with other 
Milanese noblemen, was sent to Paris, to ask the Emperor 
of Austria if he would maintain the Italian kingdom. To 
this demand Francis I. answered that Lombardy was a 
part of his dominions, and that, besides his ancient rights, 
he now possessed those of a conqueror. He said that he 
would do his utmost to render the Lombards happy, but 
that it was useless for them to think of an Italian kingdom. 
“ The Lombards,” the Emperor concluded, in dismissing 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


5 


with Confalonieri dates from the year 1807. He 
was then a handsome and elegant young man, 
newly married to a lady in whom beauty, grace, 
and sweetness of manners, harmonised wonderfully. 

It was then I left Mantua for the first time, 
and ventured into, what appeared to me, the 
great world of Milan. The Milanese were accus¬ 
tomed to look down a little upon provincials: at 
first, therefore, I accosted them with diffidence; 
and it was not until later that I became intimate 
with Confalonieri and the others. 

With the three Brescians, acquaintance and 
intimacy were almost simultaneous ; we were all 
men of the provinces. 

Confalonieri and his companions, “ must make up their 
minds to forget their former importance, and I shall en¬ 
deavour, little by little, to bring them to less ambitious 
aspirations.” Such an answer was not likely to please so 
proud a man as Confalonieri. From that moment he 
became an implacable enemy of the Austrian Government, 
and made himself the chief of the anti-Austrian party in 
Lombardy. He travelled a great deal, and became ac¬ 
quainted with the most influential Liberals of Italy and 
Europe. 

A fraction of the Italian Liberal party accused Con¬ 
falonieri of having injured the country by obstinately 
opposing the election of Prince Eugene; and, still worse, 
his enemies charged him with having indirectly co-operated 
in the assassination of the Italian Minister of Finance, 
Prina, which took place in 1814. But this calumny did 


6 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


Amongst my new friends I put, in the first 
place, in Milan, Monsignor de Breme, Pellico, 

not gain much credit, and the Count himself published a 
pamphlet in which he fully proves his innocence. This 
pamphlet, which was published in Switzerland, excited the 
displeasure of the Austrian Government. 

There is no doubt that Confalonieri did really take 
a prominent part in the Piedmontese Revolution of 1821. 
He undoubtedly acted with the chiefs of that revolutionary 
movement; but, at the moment in which it broke out, he 
was lying in his bed dangerously ill. 

It appears that in the month of March, on the very eve 
of the Revolution, he wrote a letter to Count San Marsan, 
of Turin, in which he advised the Piedmontese chiefs to 
suspend the movement, as Lombardy was not yet ready. 
This letter was the cause of Confalonieri’s ruin. 

It is generally asserted that Count Bubna, the com¬ 
mander-in-chief of the Austrian army in Lombardy, who 
was a great admirer of the beautiful and virtuous Countess 
Confalonieri, made the Count indirectly aware of the 
danger he incurred by remaining in the Imperial States. 
But Confalonieri was too proud a man to take advantage 
of the timely warning given by the old Austrian General. 
He was certain that the Government would not dare to lay 
its hand upon him. He thought too much of his personal 
and social position, and could not suppose that he would be 
imprisoned. He had, besides, taken his precautions, in case 
the police should enter his palace. A secret door had been 
opened in his dressing-room, which, by a narrow staircase, 
led to the roof of the house. The fact unhappily proved 
that he had mistaken both his individual importance, and 
the means of escaping his enemies. 

Confalonieri was arrested in the month of December 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


7 


Borsieri, and Porro ; in Brescia, Mompiani. Mon¬ 
signor de Breme and Pellico came to Mantua in 

4 

1821, and two years later he was condemned to death. 
His wife, the virtuous Teresa, went to Vienna, and, throw¬ 
ing herself at the feet of Francis I., obtained, through the 
noble exertions of the Empress, the life of her husband. 
As the sentence of death had already been signed by the 
Emperor, and sent to Milan to be carried into execution, 
it was almost a miracle that the Countess arrived in time to 
arrest the terrible tragedy. God, however, remunerated 
her noble devotion. The carriage of the courier who was 
charged to take the fatal sentence to Milan broke down on 
the snowy mountains of Tyrol: Teresa outstripped the 
messenger of death, and Confalonieri was saved.* His 
life was spared, but the fate which awaited him was never¬ 
theless terrible. Both he and Alexandre Andryanne were 
condemned to penal servitude (carcere durissimo ) for life. 

As the reader will see in one of the following notes, 
quoted from Andryanne, the sentence was read to Con¬ 
falonieri and his companions on the 21st of January, 1824. 
The names of those who, like Arrivabene, Arconati, Hgoni, 
&c., had escaped, were posted up at the top of the pillory 
in which the unfortunate Count and his fellow-prisoners 
stood, loaded with heavy chains. It appears that that 
day was expressly chosen by Salvotti, as being the anni¬ 
versary of the execution of the unhappy Louis XVI. The 
intention of the Austrian Inquisitor was clear enough ; he 

* The cushion upon which the Countess had reposed 
her head during that agonising journey, Confalonieri was 
allowed to take with him to Spielberg; but in one of the 
visits made to Spielberg by the Aulic counsellor, Baron 
Von Vogel, it was inhumanly taken away from the pri¬ 
soner. 


♦ 


8 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


1816, and were recommended to me by Signor 
Acerbi, the northern traveller. The limits which, 

meant to establish an odious comparison between those 
Italian patriots and the men who had brought the King of 
France to the scaffold. In one of the following notes I 
shall revert to the conversation Confalonieri had at Vienna 
with Prince Metternich. On this curious episode of the 
great Austrian statesman’s life, M. Veuillot has published 
two interesting articles in the Univers of 1858 and 1859. 
The Ultramontane writer relates a long conversation he 
had at Vienna with Prince Metternich, who told him that 
Pellico was a great impostor when he complained of the 
treatment to which he was subjected at Spielberg. “ Pel¬ 
lico ,” said Metternich, “ a mis la calomnie en jjriere.” A 
very strange sentence, indeed! one which no man, who 
knows what the Austrian Government is, would be likely 
to endorse. 

To return to Confalonieri, however. He passed nearly 
fourteen years at Spielberg, and was exiled to America 
after the death of Francis I. In the year 1841 he was 
allowed to return to his native country; but, alas! his 
devoted wife was no more. She had died long before, 
worn out by grief and forlorn hopes! In the year 1846, 
Confalonieri was crossing Mount Saint Gothard, when he 
died at Ariolo, more from the effect of the cruelties he had 
suffered in the Austrian dungeon than from age. 

Berchet is the patriot poet of Italy. Some of his poems 
have been translated into French. He was one of the prin¬ 
cipal writers of the Conciliatore, a journal which appeared 
in Milan in 1819 ; the organ of the romanticists , and a pro¬ 
pagator of liberal and patriotic ideas. This journal was sup¬ 
pressed by the Austrian Government after a short existence. 
Berchet died at Turin, in 1851. 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


9 


at this epoch, separated political parties in Italy 
were not then very precise. Two or three years 

Peccliio resided for a long time in England, proscribed 
in consequence of the sentence inserted in the Appendix. 
Although deprived of his fortune, he lived in London in the 
best society. Ilis conversation and distinguished manners 
made him much sought after. He captivated the heart 
of a lady of fortune, to whom he was married ; and died at 
Brighton, to which place he had gone to restore his health, 
in 1839. Peccliio was a man of science. He published 
two remarkable works: 

1. Un saggio storico dell’ amministrazione finanzaria 
dell’ ex regno d’Italia, dal 1802 al 1814. (Historical 
Essay on the financial administration of the ex-kingdom of 
Italy, from 1802 to 1814.) This work appeared in 1817 ; 
a second edition was published in London in 1826. 

2. Una storia della, Economia politico in Italia , ossia 

epilogo critico degli Economisti , preceduto da una Intro- 
duzione.—Lugano , 1829. 1 vol. 8 vo. A translation of 

this book appeared in French, under the title of Histoire de 
l’Economie politique en Italie, ou Abrege Critique des 
Economistes Italiens, preceded by an Introduction. Trans¬ 
lated from the Italian by M. Leonard Galloix. Paris, A. 
Levasseur. 1 vol. in 8vo. 

The Baron Camille Ugoni, a distinguished man of letters, 
published several volumes on the Italian writers. He 
belonged to one of the oldest families of Brescia. In 1811 
he went to Paris to offer congratulations to the Emperor on 
the birth of the King of Rome: it was then he was created 
Baron. He passed sixteen years in exile, the greater part of 
the time in Paris, where men of distinction, attracted by his 
varied knowledge and amiable nature, sought his society. 
Returning to Italy in 1848, he died there a few years after. 


10 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


later, Signor Acerbi would certainly not have sent 
those two persons to me. 

Filippo Ugoni, youngest brother of the Baron Camille 
Ugoni, was also proscribed: he lived in exile still longer than 
his brother. But he has had, on the other hand, the happiness 
of living long enough to see his native city become Italian. 

Scalvini fled with Arrivabene, and lived with him in 
exile, in England and in France. He returned to his 
country in 1839. 

There is an excellent translation of Goethe’s “Faust” 
by Scalvini: it is considered the best Italian translation 
that has appeared. He also wrote an admirable pamphlet on 
the “ Promessi Sposi” of Manzoni. Both these works appeared 
in the “Hivista Italiana,” which was published at Milan 
under the direction of M. Acerbi. He was likewise the 
author of some articles remarkable for their elevated criticism. 
His bad health would not permit him to undertake publica¬ 
tions of any great length; but he had a highly-cultivated 
taste, and a very sound and original judgment, especially in 
matters of art. 

At the time of the arrest of Borsieri, in 1822, he was clerk 
in the Court of Appeal at Milan. The sentence which 
struck him and so many others bears the date of the 21st 
January, 1824. He was taken to Spielberg, where he 
remained with Gaetano Castiglia, whose name appears many 
times in the following pages, until the end of 1833, when 
they were transferred to Briinn, and afterwards to Gradisca. 
In 1836, the two friends embarked for New York. They 
returned to Europe in 1838, at the publication of the am¬ 
nesty ; but the advantages of this act were refused to them. 
In 1840, Borsieri came to Brussels to see his friend 
Arrivabene. Having obtained the authorisation to return to 
his country, he went to Milan in 1840, fell ill in 1852, and 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


11 


Monsignor de Breme had come to Mantua to 
place upon the stage a drama of his, entitled 

died, leaving a name esteemed and loved by all wlio had 
known him. 

Gaetano Castiglia, whom the reader must not confound 
with Charles Castiglia, also mentioned in the Memoirs, was 
likewise, during some months, at Spielberg, and shared the 
room of Confalonieri. He returned in 1852 to Milan with 
Borsieri, where he still resides. His old companions in 
misfortune call him the good Castiglia. As distinguished in 
mind as in heart, he has a great many friends both in Italy 
and elsewhere. 

Count Porro belonged to one of the noblest and most 
opulent families in Milan. Every distinguished man either 
in rank or talent, whether an Italian or a foreigner, was re¬ 
ceived in his house. It was he who introduced gas into 
Milan; and to him also is principally due the introduction of 

the steamboats which thread the Ticino and the Po. 

* 

He commenced his political career in 1801, as a delegate 
from the city of Milan to the Comizii of Lyons, when 
Napoleon, first Consul, changed the destinies of Lombardy. 
In 1820 he was obliged to fly. He lived in England and 
in France : deprived of means, he was obliged, like many 
other personages, to give lessons in the Italian language 
and literature. His patriotism and love of liberty never 
abandoned him. Devoted to the cause of Greece, he was 
sent from London to carry money to that country. His 
amiable character and distinguished manners rendered him 
popular everywhere. Returning to Italy after the amnesty 
of 1838, he continued, as much as circumstances would per¬ 
mit, to serve the cause of his country. He ended his days 
recently at Milan, at an advanced age, in spite of the trials 
of an agitated life. 


12 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIFE. 


“ Ida; ” and Pellico had followed him from friend¬ 
ship and kindness of heart, in order to share 
with him the annoyances inseparable from such 
affairs, and to enjoy the hoped-for triumph of his 
friend. The drama, however, did not succeed. 
Monsignor de Breme was a cultivated man, pas¬ 
sionately given to study, of a noble mind and 
most gentlemanly manners, loving the good and 
the beautiful; but dramatic genius Nature had 
denied him. The two friends remained in Mantua 
about a month. I saw them often, and both of 
them; and of the month we passed together, I 
retain to this hour a most pleasing remembrance. 

In the summer of 1819,1 travelled into Switzer¬ 
land in company with the Ugonis. The sight, new 
to me, of a free country, and the conversing with 
men of liberal opinions, made me feel more vividly 
than ever the weight of foreign dominion, so that 
I supported it with less patience; servitude ap¬ 
peared more revolting and debasing, and the desire 
increased of seeing Italy independent and free. 

Mompiani, the intimate friend of Confalonieri, was a man 
of talent and of great worth, entirely devoted to the in¬ 
struction of children, and particularly of deaf and dumb 
children. He had brought up with him one of those unfor¬ 
tunates, whom he treated rather as a friend than as a pupil. 
Mompiani is no more. He also passed several years in 
prison. 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


13 


On returning to my native land, I crossed the 
frontiers holding in my hand “ LTtalia, uscente, 
il Settembre, 1818”—an innocuous book by An- 
geloni, but one which then appeared to me to be 
the quintessence of Liberalism. 

Such were my habits, such the state of my 
mind, on the eve of 1820. A patriot of 1796, a 
man of experience, often said to me: “ Arriva- 
bene, you will end your life in the recesses of 
a prison.” I laughed at this prophet of misfor¬ 
tune ; but that his prophecy was not fulfilled was 
the result of pure chance. 

The revolution of Spain filled me with joy, 
opened my mind to great hopes, and awakened 
all my enthusiasm. Those Spaniards who had 
returned from exile, who were liberated from the 
prisons, having now the power to make their 
oppressors expiate their injustice, their cruelties,— 
those men were, nevertheless, generous, moderate, 
humane ; forgetting injuries, abstaining from ven¬ 
geance : those men I admired and loved as fellow- 
citizens and brothers. 

Absorbed by the great events in Spain, another 
revolution, that of Naples, broke forth, which 
touched me more nearly, as it might immediately 
satisfy my desires, and change my hopes to 
realities. 


14 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


These events brought my political exultation 
to a high pitch, without, however, urging me to 
action. I contented myself with reading Neapo¬ 
litan newspapers, and conversing with friends on 
the events of the day. 

I longed for a change in Italy, not only through 
love of my country, but as a means of action, of 
doing something which would be worthy of the 
esteem and approbation of my fellow-citizens. I was 
ready, therefore, to follow any path which would 
lead to that end. Thus, being at Brescia, and 
having visited a school of mutual instruction which 
Mompiani had established there, “ Here,” I said 
to myself, “ here is a means of doing good, and at 
the same time of distinguishing myself ! ” When 
I returned to Mantua, I immediately took in hand 
the formation of a similar school. 

In two months I had assembled in it about 
two hundred children of various ages and con¬ 
ditions. This was more an experiment of the 
method than a regular school. Many amongst 
the scholars knew already how to read and write 
when they entered. Some of them, however, w 7 ere 
entirely ignorant; but in a short time they had 
learnt so well, that I was proud of my good success. 

I resided at Zaita, my villa, six miles distant 
from Mantua. 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


15 


Every day I went to the school. These days 
were the happiest of my life. Man derives his 
pleasures from different sources, all more or less 
impure; happiness he can only obtain from the 
immaculate Source of good actions. 

Confalonieri and Porro in Milan, Filippo Ugoni 
at Pontevico, and others elsewhere, had established 
schools of mutual instruction. 

These “ dilettanti ” schoolmasters corresponded 
with one another on the difficulties which they met 
with in the application of this method, on the 
manner of surmounting them, and on the improve¬ 
ments to be introduced; and they visited each 
others’ schools. 

Political ideas had given place to immediate 
good actions. We were all filled with that joy 
which penetrates the heart when, for the first 
time, we leave the routine of common life, and 
undertake something at once beautiful and use¬ 
ful ; consecrating ourselves to the mission of re¬ 
generating the people,—a mission to which we 
thought ourselves destined, and which we con¬ 
ceived ourselves able easily to accomplish. 

But we were under a strange delusion, and 
were too soon made aware of it. Mutual instruc¬ 
tion, like so many other inventions of modern days, 
was a symbol of party—of Liberalism. The Austrian 


16 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


Government was therefore hostile to it; and, besides, 
would not tolerate that men whom it knew to be 
its enemies should pass from the community of 
thought to that of action, and should acquire 
influence over the people by means of instruction. 
It ordered that our schools should be closed. 

Scarcely had I received this fatal command than 
I went to Milan : I presented myself before the 
Viceroy, and implored of him its revocation, or at 
least its suspension. He received my request with 
courtesy, and permitted me to keep open my 
school provisionally. I returned home contented 
for the present, and full of hope for the future. 
But, some days after the order was renewed, I had 
recourse a second time to the Viceroy, who, in a 
tone sufficiently severe, told me it was necessary 
to obey. On returning to Mantua, I went to the 
school. The children were anxious as criminals 
awaiting their sentence; and when they heard 
that there was no more hope — that we should 
be forced to separate for ever—there was 
universal weeping. This grief could not, however, 
be with them more than momentary—on the 
surface, as it were, of the heart—whilst with me 
it took deep root. I had formed the habit of 
serious occupation, accomplishing at the same time 
a work of usefulness. To find myself deprived of 



AN EPOCH OF 3IY LIFE. 


17 


it at one blow, was a great void in my life—some¬ 
thing insupportable. 

To divert and console myself, I went into 
Tuscany with Scalvini. I was pleased to advance 
towards Naples—that volcano, that beacon, of 
revolution, towards which were then turned and 
attracted the dazzled eyes of the Liberals of the 
whole of Italy. My good work stopped; political 
ideas resumed their empire over my mind. I 
entertained myself with some Tuscan Liberals on 
the revolution of Naples. I wrote to Lombardy, 
by post, some imprudent letters, and I carried 
there a pamphlet, in which was confronted the 
despotism of Napoleon with that of Austria, the 
first being described as sublime , at least. It was 
also shown (giving America as an example) that 
even without kings public affairs could prosper 
(these are the words of the author). Such, were 
the few Liberal sins I committed during my 
sojourn in Tuscany, and for which I had to do 
no penance whatever. 

But, indirectly, this journey was the cause of 
serious evils to me. 

On the eve of my going into Tuscany, Porro 
had asked me to take away from the college of 
Siena his eldest son, Giberto. I was to bring 
him with me to Zaita, where his father would 

c 


18 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


come and fetch him. Giber to and I arrived at 
Zaita towards the middle of September, and, a 
few days after, we were joined by Porro, his two 
younger sons, and Pellico, their preceptor.* 

I had these dear friends in my house for fifteen 
days. The youthful vivacity of Porro, the amenity 
of character and the cultivated mind of Pellico, and 
the cheerfulness of the three youths, rendered Zaita 
an abode of joy and contentment. We often 
made excursions to the neighbouring villages. I 
will mention one of these. 

Porro, Confalonieri, and A. Visconti, had im¬ 
ported into Italy in this same year, 1820, a steam¬ 
boat— the first which appeared there. Leaving 
Pavia, she was to descend the Ticino, enter the 
Po, go to Venice, and vice versa . Arrived at the 
mouth of the Mincio, it was to mount that river 
about three miles, as far as Governolo, and deposit 
there the goods directed to Mantua, where the 


* “ I had devoted myself to the functions of an instructor 
for some years towards Giacomo and Giulio Porro, two 
young boys of excellent promise, whom I loved as if they 
had been my own, and whom I shall always love. God 
knows how many times, in my prison, I have thought of 
them; how I have been afflicted at not being able to finish 
their education; with what ardour I besought Heaven to 
give them a new master who might equal me in love for 
them! ”— Pellico : Mie Vrigioni. 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIFE. 


19 


boat, on account of certain locks, could not arrive. 
She made her first voyage just at the time that 
Porro and his family were at Zaita. This is dis¬ 
tant five miles from Governolo. We repaired 
thither on the day fixed for the arrival of the boat. 
Each side of the river was crowded with people. 
After many hours of anxious waiting, we saw in 
the distance a pillar of smoke, then the boat: there 
was a universal silence ; but, when, having arrived 
at the village, and almost touching it, she turned 
herself majestically round, and stopped at the 
opposite bank, there was a loud shout of applause, 
which echoed all along the shores. 

One day, whilst Porro and his sons were in 
the garden, Pellico and I were in a room, seated 
on a sofa. We spoke of Italy—of the manner 
of regenerating her. Suddenly Pellico ex¬ 
claimed,—- 

“ Arrivabene, to regenerate Italy we must 

have secret societies; we must become Carbo- 

• >> 
nan. 

“ It would be a folly/' I replied immediately. 
“ You know that not long since a law was promul¬ 
gated which condemns the Carbonari to death. 
You may help Italy without affiliating yourself to 
any sect/' 

Those who had gone into the garden re-entered 


20 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


the house; our dialogue was interrupted, and 
never resumed. 

Towards the 6th of October, Porro confided to 
me the management of the affairs connected with 
the arrival of the steamboat at Governolo. He 
left about this time with his family, going to 
Milan. On the 13th, Pellico was arrested. 


21 


CHAPTER II. 

THE PIEDMONTESE REVOLUTION. 

About the middle of February, 1821, I received 
at Mantua a letter from Confalonieri, in which he 
invited me to repair immediately to Milan, in 
order to regulate with him the accounts of the 
steamboat. I, believing this to be the real reason 
of his sudden summons, and not thinking any 
inconvenience could arise from delaying my de¬ 
parture a little, remained a few days at Mantua. 
When I arrived in Milan, I found Confalonieri 
seriously ill. The doctors had forbidden him to 
speak, or even to hear speaking. After a brief 
conversation by signs, in which we endeavoured 
to express the emotions to which our hearts were 
a prey in this grave emergency (the Piedmontese 
Revolution was at that time maturing), I departed 
. . . and I never saw him after, until sixteen 
years had passed away, when, returning from 


22 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


America, and being expelled from France, he took 
refuge in Belgium, at the chateau of Gasbeck, in 
the bosom of that family* which seemed always 
to think that it had only been more spared 
by fortune than other exiles for the sole end 
of consoling, succouring, and giving hospitality 

* The author here alludes to the family of the Marquis 
Areonati Visconti, a Milanese nobleman of great wealth, 
who, like Arrivabene, was condemned to death in 1822. 

There are few men in Italy, or perhaps in Europe, 
whose moral qualities could bear comparison with those 
of the Marquis Areonati. Kindness, charity, amiability, a 
restless activity in soothing the misfortunes of his fellow- 
creatures— such are the prominent features of Arconati’s 
noble nature. 

When he was compelled to emigrate, together with his 
excellent and high-minded wife, he went to Belgium, where 
he had a good deal of landed property bequeathed by an 
uncle, who had married the last descendant of the famous 
Count d’Egmont. Once settled in Belgium, both the 
chateau of Gasbeck and Arconati’s palace in Brussels were 
inhabited by a great many of his exiled friends. The 
famous Italian poet, Berchet, Counts Colegno and Arrivabene, 
together with several others, became the daily guests of 
that generous family. Nor was this the only manner in 
which the Marquis Areonati Visconti exercised what he 
always thought the first duty of a rich exile. The greater 
part of his income was every year distributed amongst the 
Italian political refugees who chanced to pass through 
Brussels, or who were settled there, and amongst the poor 
of the town. 

In 1848, the Marquis Areonati settled in Piedmont, 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


23 


to its brethren in misfortune. Oh, how he 
was changed from what he had been before ! 
The sunken shoulders, the fixed eyes, and, even 
more, the depressed spirit, showed clearly how 
profound had been the grief, how great the sorrows 
which he had suffered. 

where he was elected a member of the Chamber of Deputies, 
a civic dignity which he still holds. Truly religious, yet 
liberal, and a great lover of his country, the Marquis 
Arconati belongs to that political party which has the 
honour of reckoning among its supporters men like Man- 
zoni, Alfieri di Sostegno, and Massimo d’Azeglio; men, 
who know how to steer a proper course between the undue 
pretensions of the Roman court and the exaggerations of 
the extreme parties. 

The house of the Marquis Arconati, at Turin, is the 
one most frequented by political and literary men. The 
Marchioness Arconati Visconti was one of the few Italian 
friends whom the unfortunate Margaret Fuller Ossoli had 
in Italy ; and the following opinion of her has been ex¬ 
pressed by that extraordinary American writer:— 

“ Among strangers, I wish most to speak to you of 
my friend, the Marchioness Arconati Visconti, a Milanese. 
She is a specimen of the really high-bred lady, such as 
I have not known elsewhere. The grace and harmony 
of her manners produce all the impressions of beauty. 
She lias also a mind strong, clear, precise, and much 
cultivated. She has a modest nobleness that you would 
dearly love. She is intimate with many of the first 
men. She seems to love me much, and to wish I should 
have whatever is hers. I take great pleasure in her 
friendship.” 


24 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


One morning—it was about the end of Feb¬ 
ruary—Borsieri came to me, exclaiming,— 

“ Quick ! dress yourself, and come with me.” 

“ Where?” 

“ To Pecchio’s country-house, three miles 
from Milan. He is waiting for us in a carriage 
on the Piazza.” 

I went into my bedroom to dress myself, but 
did not find my clothes there. I returned to 
Borsieri, and said to him,— 

“ I cannot go with you, because I have nothing 
to put on; my servant must have locked up my 
clothes in his room.” 

“ Soon remedied,” answered Borsieri. “ Send 
for a smith, and cause the room to be opened.” 

This being done, I dressed hastily, and we de¬ 
parted. 

When we entered the carriage, the two friends 
told me why they were going into the country. 
It was to discuss the measures to be taken in 
case the revolutionary movements which were 
in preparation in Piedmont should break out, 
and the Piedmontese should come to Milan. 
I observed to them that they had made a bad 
choice in selecting the country. If it had been 
summer-time, admirable—nothing more natural; 
but in the winter, with the ground covered with 



AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


25 


snow, we should leave traces, like those of our 
wheels, on the snow. 

Arrived at Pecchio’s country-house, we were 
joined by Benigno Bossi, and by the councillor, 
Carlo Castiglia. So we were five—Pecchio, Bor- 
sieri, myself, Bossi, and Castiglia. We spoke 
of the Piedmontese Revolution, but kept to gene¬ 
ralities; no one knew, or, at least, no one said, 
anything of particulars. We agreed that it would 
have been well to prepare the organisation of 
a National Guard. We talked over some names 
—the names of persons thought to be the most 
fit to form a committee of government, to under¬ 
take the most important otfices. Allusions were 
made to a proclamation to be published on the 
entry of the Piedmontese into Milan, and, in 
reference to this, Pecchio said, “ It would fall 
to Confalonieri to sign it, but he is ill. Arriva- 
bene, you will sign it.” 

I excused myself, not out of fear—I had not 
even a shadow of it—but by alleging that my 
name was not sufficiently noted in Milan to give 
weight to any proclamation to which it might be 
appended. 

To these discourses succeeded others of a 
different nature. We ate and drank, and every 
one then went about his own business. Prom 



26 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


that moment to the one in which the Piedmontese 
Revolution was discovered, twelve or fifteen days 
passed. The first movement was made in Ales¬ 
sandria on the 10th, the second in Turin on the 
13th, of March. During the interval the five did 
not meet again. Not one of them, as far as is 
known to me, attempted to bring to effect the 
proposed measures; and I did not know any more 
of the affairs of Piedmont than was known to the 
generality of the Milanese. 

About this same time, one night, at a late 
hour, Pecchio came to me. He told us (Scalvini 
was with me) that the affairs of Piedmont were 
going on well, but that there was a scarcity of 
money,—a want, above all, of horses for the officers 
of the “ staff : ” he came to me for money. I had 
none in the house; but I promised him 1000 francs 
by the following morning. 

In order not to excite suspicion, it was arranged 
that, at a certain hour, I should go to a stated 
spot, where I should find some one who would 
receive the money. And this we did. I took 
the money, which I borrowed from a friend, allow¬ 
ing him to see the object for which it was destined; 
so that, in a few days after, several persons 
asked me if it were true # that I had given a great 
sum of money for the Piedmontese cause. The 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


27 


thousand francs, passing from mouth to mouth, had 
become a large sum, which underwent even other 
metamorphoses, as will be seen in the sequel. 

Pecchio being gone, Scalvini and I began 
to make some serious reflections. We were 
obliged to allow that the Piedmontese revolu¬ 
tionists must find themselves at a very low ebb, 
to have recourse to the Lombards for money. 
What could the armies of Piedmont and Naples 
do,—what could even all Italy do, even should she 
rise en masse , with forces mostly undisciplined and 
disunited, against the disciplined, warlike, and 
united forces of Austria, backed by that great 
colossus, “ The Holy Alliance ? ” The undertaking 
was above the strength of the Italians — was 
absurd! This conclusion did not lead me, how¬ 
ever, as would seem natural that it should do, to 
withdraw myself from the perilous path on which 
I had entered. To do so was not so easy or so 
natural as it appears at first sight. What means 
could I take P Make known to my friends the 
discovery I had made? They would have said 
I had made it through the prism of fear. Leave 
Milan without letting them know ? They would 
have said worse. And then I liked being near 
the place where a knot of so much political im¬ 
portance was to be untied; and also my self- 



28 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


love was a little flattered at being in Milan, a 
sort of representative of my province ; above all, 
I did not sufficiently reflect on the possible con¬ 
sequences. I remained, therefore, at Milan. The 
news of the movement at Alessandria reached me 
on the 11th of March. I do not know what my 
friends did. As for myself, I remained three days 
longer at Milan, and then I returned to Mantua 
to my usual life, as though I had not mixed my¬ 
self up in anything,—as if at that very moment the 
fate of Italy and my own were not being decided. 


29 


CHAPTER III. 

I AM ARRESTED. 

It was the last Friday of May, 1821. I was at 
Zaita, in company with some friends. It was two 
o’clock in the afternoon, and very hot. I had 
retired to my room, and, stretched on a sofa, was 
sleeping in a semi-obscurity. My villa is situated 
at about three hundred paces from the highroad 
which goes from Mantua to Modena. The road 
is paved with small stones pressed together, so 
that a carriage passing over it makes a great 
noise. I heard a distant sound of carriages-—the 
sound came nearer—I ran to the window—I saw 
two carriages entering the allee. I descended the 
staircase precipitately, and at the foot of it found five 
persons, of whom one was in uniform, with a sword 
at his side. I understood well who they were,—I im¬ 
agined why they came,—and yet I asked them the 



30 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


motive of their visit. One of them replied, “ We 
are sent by the Governor: we have orders to 
search your papers.” I conducted them all over 
the house. Papers they found none, for there were 
none to find. 

“ Now,” said the one who had already spoken 
to me, “ you must come with us to Mantua; we 
have also to search your house in town.” I offered 
them dinner, but they did not accept my offer. I 
caused refreshments to be brought, and of these 
they partook. In a word, whether it was from 
an exaggerated sentiment of the duties of hospi¬ 
tality, or the vanity of showing myself superior to 
any vicissitudes, or from the pleasure of making 
my conduct contrast with the office they filled, or 
perhaps a little of all these feelings combined, but 
so it was, I treated them rather as guests than as 
instruments of misfortune. I affected to be care¬ 
less, but I suffered much; and now, fifteen years 
• after, when my thoughts revert to that moment, 
a shudder runs through my veins. My friends 
and servants were struck dumb. I entered the 
carriage, and went to Mantua in this stern com¬ 
pany. 

Conversing with a person who was seated by 
my side, I endeavoured to discover if the drama in 
which he and I represented the two principal 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


31 


parts would have a sorrowful or happy termination. 
It was in vain. 

The search for papers in town was long; 
I was tranquil, however, as to the result of it, 
because I was certain I did not possess any of 
importance. 

I was wrong: that which to my judgment 
was not important, was so to that of others. They 
found a letter which was the occasion of suffering 
to a person particularly dear to me: but of this 
afterwards. 

The search ended, I was conveyed to the office 
of the police. Every step I took with such persons 
bore away a little hope, and led me nearer to 
prison. They shut me in a room. An hour after, 
the Director of the Police entered. 

“ I have orders,” said he to me, “ to send you 
to Venice, before the Commission instituted by his 
Majesty for judging persons accused of Carbon- 
arism. I have reason to believe,” added he (and 
these were courteous words), “ that you will only 
be questioned, and will then be set at liberty.” 

It was eight o’clock at night. From the hour of 
the arrival of the ill-omened visitors at Zaita to 
that, but six hours had elapsed; but the interval 
had been filled with sensations so new, so strong, 
and so sorrowful, that I was exhausted. I requested 


32 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIFE. 


the Director of the Police to defer my departure 
until the following morning : to this he con¬ 
sented. 

I went to my house accompanied by a new 
Commissary, those who had come to arrest me 
having all disappeared, and by two gendarmes in 
plain clothes. I went to bed; the Commissary re¬ 
mained in my room seated on an arm-chair; the two 
gendarmes in the ante-room stretched themselves on 
a mattrass. I did not close my eyes the whole night. 
A thousand sorrowful thoughts rose in my mind. I 
cheered myself, however, with the thought that I was 
not a Carbonaro, and knew nothing of Carbonarism. 
As to the words said to me by Pellico, at Zaita, I 
had attached no importance whatever to them (who 
could imagine that there was any ?); and every trace 
of them was so entirely effaced from my memory, 
that this being sent to Venice before a Commission 
which had for its special office the judging the affairs 
of Carbonarism, did not even suffice to recall them. 
Before daylight I rose from my bed—the Com¬ 
missary slept, or pretended to sleep. My servant 
Giuseppe, a good German, brought me my coffee. 
He remained in the room, and, with me, set about 
making preparations for departure. He whispered 
in my ear, “Ply! fly !” In the room there was 
an alcove, in which the bed was placed. This com- 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


33 


municates with a dressing-room, and from it there 
was access to every part of the house. 

My paternal mansion is very extensive. Seven 
gates give exit into two different streets. To fly 
from my house would have been very easy. But 
where should I shelter myself? At what door 
should I knock ? How get out of the city, which 
is a fortress ? How arrive at the frontiers ? “I 
will not fly,” I said to Giuseppe,—“ I will not 
fly: at latest, in a year we shall see each other 
again.” 

At four in the morning I entered the carriage. 
The commissary placed himself by my side; the 
two gendarmes opposite. Some of my friends were 
in the street before my house, coming to wish me a 
farewell, which might be the last. 

Scarcely had we left the city than I repeatedly 
interrogated the commissary concerning the Com¬ 
mission of Venice. It was of the greatest importance 
to me that it should have no other mission than 
that of punishing the crimes of Carbonarism. The 
commissary was a rude man, ill-educated; but, as 
he replied according to my wishes, I felt an af¬ 
fection for him. I forced myself to read ; but only 
the eyes read—the mind was otherwise occupied. 
We arrived by night at Mestre, and put ourselves 
in a gondola. The lagune was agitated; there was 

D 



34 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


both wind and rain, with a dark sky. Nature was 
in harmony with my present fortune and with the 
state of my mind. 

Towards midnight we entered Venice. Crossing 
the Grand Canal, the light of chandeliers streamed 
from the windows of two palaces; the sound of 
merry voices came to my ears. We got out at the 
Ducal Palace. The commissary left; I, guarded 
by the two gendarmes, seated myself upon a bench 
under the portico of the Palace by the light of a 
lamp nearly extinguished. The commissary was 
absent about an hour. According to him, it ap¬ 
peared that no gaoler would receive me, and that it 
was as if by favour that I was admitted into prison. 
The commissary, the two gendarmes, and a fourth 
personage, newly come upon the scene, as well as 
the gaoler, accompanied me to the prison destined 
for me. 

During the journey I had taken nothing but 
coffee and bread. I had some food brought to me, 
but the mouthfuls would not go down: I then 
threw myself on the bed* What a night was that! 
In less than two days, what a change in my situa¬ 
tion ! Prom being the inhabitant of a villa, em¬ 
bellished by myself, surrounded by affectionate 
country people, under a smiling sky in that month 
of May, that festival month of the fields in Italy,— 



AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


35 


from being a man of good fortune, with thoughts 
of travel, of marriage, of noble and useful actions, 
to become the inhabitant of a prison: in the hands 
of powerful enemies, strangers, irritated against all 
that was Italian! 

Scarcely had the day appeared than I jumped 
out of bed, and ran to the window. I saw from it 
a great part of Venice; and under me a bridge, and 
the Church of St. Mark, in which, looking through 
the panes of the window, I saw the priests officiat¬ 
ing, and the faithful kneeling in prayer, and from 
which the chants and the sound of the organ 
reached my ear. 

On the first appearance of the gaoler, I asked 
him, “ What bridge is that ? What prison is 
that?” “That is the Bridge of Sighs, and here, 
where you are, is the prison called Tice Leads” re¬ 
plied he, in his Venetian dialect. The name of the 
bridge made a great impression on me. I was too 
absorbed, however, in my own misfortunes to shed 
tears over those past unhappy beings who had 
crossed it; and, whatever bad opinion I might have 
of the hands into which I had fallen, I knew well 
that of this bridge I had nothing to fear. Of the 
Liombi (the Leads) I had made to myself such a ter¬ 
rible image, that 1 was relieved when I found that 


36 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


the one in which they had confined me was a dirty, 
common prison, and nothing more.* 

Towards mid-day, the gaoler returned, and an- 

/• 

nounced to me that the judges called me before 
them. 

He introduced me into a large hall. There 
were present four persons : viz., three judges ; Sal- 
votti (a Tyrolean), a Vicentian, and an Austrian, 
whose names I do not remember, and a clerk, Ros- 
mini, also a Tyrolean. The Commission was com¬ 
pleted by a President, the Count Gardani of Mantua 

“ I Piombi, or The Leads, are the highest part of the 
ancient palace of the Doge, which is entirely covered with 
lead. In March, the heat came on. It is not possible to 
imagine how heated the air in my den became. Placed to 
the south, under a leaden roof, with a window opening to the 
roof of St. Mark, likewise of lead, the refraction was terrific. 
I could scarcely breathe. I had no idea of a heat so over¬ 
powering. To this torment, in itself quite sufficient, were 
added such swarms of gnats, that, if I made the least move¬ 
ment and disturbed them, I was completely covered: the 
bed, the table, the chair, the floor, the walls, the ceiling, the 
whole room was filled with them — a countless multitude, 
which went and came through the window with an intole¬ 
rable buzzing. The bites of these insects are very painful ; 
and when one is punctured with them from morning to night, 
and from night to morning, there is enough of suffering, in 
all conscience, for both mind and body.”— Pellico : Mie 
Prigioni. 



AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


37 


(an old friend of my house), and another judge, 
Tosetti; but these two did not take part in the 
examination. Salvotti was handsome in person, 
with black eyes, and black and thick hair; and he 
was elegantly dressed in a black coat and trousers 
of black silk. 

The Vicentian was also a handsome and elegant 
young man. Salvotti was the principal interroga¬ 
tor. After the usual questions as to age, country, 
condition, &c., he asked me if I had never read 
Neapolitan journals, nor the Song, at that time fa¬ 
mous, of Rossetti?* Who had given it to me ? Had 
I communicated it to others? I replied boldly, 
that I had never seen any Neapolitan newspapers, 
though I had frequently read them. But I do not 
know how I had the weakness to acknowledge 
that Porro had brought to Zaita the song of Ros¬ 
setti, and that I had read it to some persons at 
Mantua. I mentioned, however, as one of the per¬ 
sons, a friend of Austria, as a protecting shield to 
the others. 

I knew afterwards that they were all called 
before the police. Some acknowledged the fact, 
others denied it: not one of them had to suffer 
any other inconvenience. On this occasion I ex- 


* See Appendix. 


38 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


perienced, for the first time, how painful it is to a 
truthful person to reply no when it ought to be 
yes , even to people who you know are plotting your 
ruin, and in spite of the evil consequences which 
one might expect from this yes to yourself and to 
others. When I denied having knowledge of a 
fact which was known to me, I felt myself growing 
pale, and accepted some snuff that the judges 
offered me, in order to have occasion to rub my 
face with my handkerchief, and thus to redden 
it by force. Salvotti insisted that I should confess 
to having sent the Song to Brescia, to the Ugonis; 
but I had not done so, and it was easy therefore 
for me to deny it. The “ mutual instruction ” was 
a field on which I had to sustain a long and 
hard battle. Salvotti wanted me to acknowledge 
having founded the school in Mantua with the de¬ 
sign of obtaining the affections of the people, to 
make use of in future contingent revolutions. I 
did not agree to this, and in this instance it was 
not necessary to take snuff, because it was not the 
case.—“ Do you like constitutional government ? ” 
asked Salvotti. “ Yes,” replied I. “ But granted 
freely by princes?” “ Certainly so.” He asked 
me many other questions, but insignificant ones, 
and totally extraneous to Carbonarism. 

The examination lasted more than four hours, 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


39 


when Salvotti, rising suddenly, put an end to it with 
these words: “ Pellico confided to you at Zaita 
that he was a Carbonaro : it was your duty to 
denounce him to the Government; you have not 
done so — therefore you are guilty of the crime of 
non-revelation.”* These words shot like a flash 
of lightning into the recesses of my mind, and 
recalled to my memory the brief dialogue I had had 
at Zaita with Pellico on Carbonarism. To deny 
would have been easy, and is what a calm and 
experienced man would have done. But it never 
even crossed my mind to deny. I, on the contrary, 
exclaimed, with an accent of scorn: “How! de¬ 
nounce and betray my friend and guest! What laws 
are these? The most immoral in the world. Let 
me be condemned! Were I to find myself a thou¬ 
sand times in a similar case, a thousand times again 
and again should I act in the same way. Pellico, 
however, did not tell me that he was a Carbonaro, 
but that he intended, or that he thought it advis¬ 
able, to become one. This is so true that I dissuaded 
him from it. Hoes one ever dissuade a man from 
committing an action which he has already done ? 
Thus, even according to the law, I am not guilty. 
The law obliges subjects to denounce the Carbonari 

* This crime is punished by carcere duro (hard labour) 
for life. (See Appendix.) 


40 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


to the Government, but it does not go so far as to 
constrain them to divulge discourses on Carbon- 
arism which they may happen to have heard, or 
the desire that a person might manifest to enter, 
or even that others should enter, the sect.” I vras 
so right that the judges could do no less than say 
my situation had been difficult and delicate. “ In 
any case,” added they, “ it is necessary to obey the 
laws.” They advised me, however, to keep up my 
courage : attenuating circumstances worked in my 
favour. Pellico himself had said that I had not 
accepted his proposals; and thereupon they sent me 
back to prison. 

It was fortunate that I had simply told the 
truth. The concordance of my deposition with 
that of Pellico had evidently proved my innocence. 

God forbid that I should blame Pellico for 
having repeated to the Commission of Venice the 
few words onCarbonarism which had passed between 
us two at Zaita ! lie, like myself and others, had not 
known how to resist that impulse which obliges one 
to tell the truth, come what may. I make also the 
following conjecture : it seems, in truth, that Pellico 
was a Carbonaro, or thought at least that he was 
one; that Laderchi and Maroncelli, who had come 
from the Romagna, had affiliated him to the sect 
in the spring of 1820 , although they had not 


.AN EPOCH OP MY LIFE. 


41 


the power of doing so; also that they had com¬ 
municated by letter to their superiors the con¬ 
quest they had made, asking them to legitimize 
their work; that they had confided the letter to 
a tailor, a fellow-citizen of theirs, who was return¬ 
ing to his country; and that the police, either 
by the treachery of the tailor, or by some other 
means, came into possession of the letter, which 
determined the arrest of Maroncelli, Laderclii, and 
Pellico. Pellico, after several months’ imprison¬ 
ment, annoyed by repeated and tormenting exami¬ 
nations, seeing proofs accumulating against him, 
dismayed by the threats of the judges if he 
obstinately kept silence, and flattered by their 
promises if he decided upon speaking, was probably 
induced to confess to having been received as a 
Carbonaro. The judges then probably observed to 
him that he had been to Zaita, soon after this event,, 
and that he had remained there many days; that, 
when they considered the spirit of proselytism 
proper to the sect, and the knowledge he had of 
the opinions of Arrivabene, it would be impossible 
for them not to believe that he had made him a 
Carbonaro as well as himself. Perhaps, also, they 
made him believe that they had indications, proofs 
even, and that it would be better for him to tell the 
entire truth. Pellico, placed in this difficulty, may 


42 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


have replied : “ So far am I from having made Arri- 
vabene a Carbonaro, that, having confided to him, 
as a test of his opinions, that I wished to become 
one, he dissuaded me from it.”* 

The vent I had given to my just resentment, 
the nature of the accusation, and the impossibility 
the judges were under of proving the contrary of 
what I asserted, raised my drooping spirits ; and if 
it had not been for the fear that the Commission 
would scan and scrutinise the short political life I 
had lived in Milan, on the eve of the Piedmontese 
Revolution (and what would they not in such a case 
have done to one, if they did not hesitate to imprison 

* It was not until 1841, after nineteen years of forced 
exile, that I was allowed again to see the land where I was 
born ; and it ,|vas only in 1843 that I could go to Turin. 
Following the dictates of my heart, my first steps were 
turned towards the dwelling of Silvio Pellico. It would 
have been of great interest to me to know the true motives 
of his arrest and condemnation ; above all, to know how he 
had been brought to repeat to the Commission of Venice the 
brief, rapid colloquy held by us at Zaita. But a sense of 
delicacy required that the initiative of the explanations 
should come from Pellico, and not from me, who had suffered 
through his fault. He, however, not doing so, I was silent ; 
I would not reopen grievous wounds scarcely healed — dis¬ 
turb a peace so necessary to one who had suffered so much. 
The reader will approve my conduct, and be satisfied with 
the hypothesis, which appears to agree with the facts. 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


43 


me in consequence of the deposition of a single 
individual — a deposition which was rather an excuse 
than an accusation?)—had it not been for this fact, 
I repeat, I should have remained in prison with a 
tranquil mind, certain of leaving it soon trium¬ 
phantly. 

The moral agitation to which I had been a prey, 
from the moment in which they had arrested me to 
this hour, had reacted upon me physically.* I had 
a fever. The gaoler called in the doctor of the 
prison. He came and gave me, I know not what 
medicine. He was a man of about sixty years of 
age ; he spoke with tears in his eyes of the Republic 
of Venice, blessing at the same time the name 
of the Emperor of Austria. He wore two large 
diamond rings : in short, he was one of those 


* The agitation which overpowers a man accused of a 
political offence is well depicted by Pellico in the following 
lines :— 

“ Oh, the anxiety of a criminal process ! how horrible 
are they for a man accused of a crime against the State ! 
How great the fear of injuring others ! How difficult to 
bear up against so many accusations, so many suspicions! 
How greatly is the probability of being compromised in¬ 
creased, if the proceedings are spun out, if new arrests take 
place, if fresh acts of imprudence are discovered, committed 
even by persons unknown to you, but who belong to the same 
party ! ”— Pellico : Mie Prigioni. 



44 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


men of whom the race is rapidly becoming ex¬ 
tinct.* 

On Tuesday morning, the gaoler entered my 
prison, followed by three persons. One of them 
came to me, and told me to follow him. “ But where 
to?” “ You will soon know.” The two others took 
charge of my luggage. We all went out. The 
three new-comers and I entered a gondola: we 
passed through a great many canals. I had been 
once before to Venice, but only for a few days. In 
this labyrinth of canals, each similar to the other, 1 
did not know where I was, nor could I conjecture 
where I was being taken to. At last we were out 
of Venice. He who had already spoken then told 
me that he was the gaoler of the prison of San 
Michele di Murano, and that he was taking me 
there. San Michele is a small island at a little 
distance from the larger island, on which is the 
village of Murano, celebrated for its glass-works. 
San Michele had been a convent, which the 
Austrians had converted into a state prison. 

Crossing a court, I saw two prisoners at the 
window. One was singing a song on Italy and 
liberty; the other, holding himself by one hand 

* This was Doctor Dosmo, mentioned by Silvio Pellico 
in his Mie Prigioni. 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


45 


against the bars, exclaimed, “ Quand briserons-nous 
ces fers?” (When shall we break these chains?) 

I was conducted to the prison destined for me. 
To reach it, it was necessary to pass a small room in 
which slept two “ sbirri” (turnkeys). My prison was 
a little room which had been once used as soldiers’ 
quarters. The walls were partly chipped, partly 
covered with fantastic figures, and worse, drawn 
with coal ; the ground half-paved with tiles, half- 
unpaved. It had been reduced to this miserable 
condition the year before by a storm, which had 
destroyed many parts of the convent. The gaoler 
was forced, in this terrible emergency, to break the 
rules, and to place prisoners together, who ought not 
to have seen or spoken to each other; and thus their 
trials were recommenced, and their captivity greatly 
prolonged. To return to the description of my room: 
it had two little windows without shutters; large 
bars of wood performed the office of iron : they let 
in too little light in the day, and too much in the 
night. The window-frames were so bad that at the 
first shower the room became a lake. There were a 
bed, two chairs covered with straw, a press, a table, 
and a looking-glass. The view from the window 
at high-water was beautiful, including Murano, the 
laguna , and the mountains of the Trevisano. But 
at low tide the laguna , from a mirror of water, was 


46 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


transformed into a vast fetid plain of mire, in 
which, plunged up to the waist, one saw moving 
slowly hither and thither persons half-naked, seek¬ 
ing for the so-called fruits of the sea. 

I was terrified at the thought of passing the 
summer in this island. I should certainly fall 
ill there, and perhaps even die, I said to myself. 
However, I passed the summer and autumn in good 
health, which I attribute to the sober and regular 
life I was obliged to lead, and to having been used 
from infancy to breathe a similar air in my marshy 
country. I remained a month alone in this room, 
the only man, but with a numerous company of 
insects. I counted twenty-nine different species, 
all innocuous ; amongst them scorpions, of which I 
had a horror and fear; however, I was never bitten 
by them. Almost every morning, some of them 
appeared on the walls. That which was awful to 
me was delightful to the gaoler, who would take the 
scorpions, and put them alive in little bottles of oil: 
according to his account, the oil impregnated with 
the essence of the bodies of these poor insects 
(I almost pitied them) was the best remedy for 
wounds. I was questioned a second time on the 
island itself, where the judges had assembled. Of 
the principal accusation no mention was made— 
only vague questions. Salvotti returned to the 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIFE. 


47 


Song of Rossetti. “ To call the soldiers of his 
Majesty mercenary legions of slaves ! ” I replied 
that there might be some objectionable expressions 
in the Song, but that I had not composed it, and 
to have read it was no great crime. 

I took this opportunity of saying to the judges 
that I was a man who, living in the country, was ac¬ 
customed to the open air and to much exercise. Shut 
up between four walls, my health was failing me; 
it was hard to treat me thus for an imaginary crime. 
There was a garden on the island; would they per¬ 
mit me to walk in it?—The judges consented, limit¬ 
ing the walk to one hour a-day. 

The garden was large. The first time I entered 
it, I wanted to go from one end to the other; but 
the gaoler stopped me and said he had orders to 
let me walk only in one part of it, and to remain 
always by my side. He was silent as to the motive 
of this prohibition, but I soon discovered it. The 
forbidden part of the garden was commanded by 
the windows of a prison, in which was some one 
whom I was not to see, and by whom I was not to 
be seen. 

The exercise in the open air, although in so 
confined a space, and for so short a time, did me 
great good. A compact made with the gaoler gave 
an appearance of liberty to my steps; he remained 


48 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 

✓ 

seated, and I was not to pass over a certain boun¬ 
dary, fixed by him. The condescension of the 
judges (a similar favour had never been accorded 
to any prisoner, and was, as was natural, the oc¬ 
casion of envy) raised my spirits and renewed my 
hopes. I said to myself: If they have yielded so 
soon to my prayer, it is because even they under¬ 
stand that it was a great injustice and a great mis¬ 
take to arrest me. I was, in fact, assured by the 
judge Tosetti, that he and the President had been 
of opinion, that the sole deposition of Pellico, had 
it been even against me, whilst on the contrary 
it was favourable to me, would not have been a 
sufficient reason to determine my arrest; but the 
three other judges thought differently, and their 
opinion prevailed. One afternoon, whilst I was 
walking in the garden, there passed, close to the 
wall, a bark in which were two fishermen. One of 
them asked the other: 

“ Cosa xe quel signor cite spaseza la solo so- 
letto f” 

“ El sara un Carbonaro 

“ Che cosa xei sti Carbonari , che cosa volevoli 
far?” 

“ I voleva tirar zo V Imperator .” 

(“ Who is that gentleman who walks alone 
there ?” 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


49 


“ He must be a Carbonaro,” replied the other. 

“ What are these Carbonari ? what do they 
want to do?” 

“ They want to overthrow the Emperor.”) 

One day, Salvotti came to me, and, with the 
accent of a man who brings good news, told me 
that I should no longer be left alone, but that I 
should soon have a companion. This announce¬ 
ment, instead of consoling me, gave me pain. 

I had sent for many of my books from home. 
During the day, I read, made extracts, and formed 
plans for works of my own; I wrote letters which 
were never to be sent, and put down on paper 
thoughts which were never to be communicated t o 
any one. 

I have still impressed on my mind, word for 
word, two fragments of these my prison compo¬ 
sitions. I addressed myself to a youth distinguished 
for the precocity of his genius, and for whose 
instruction I had promised to provide: 

“ And thou, young man, thou/’ said I, “ who 
didst amuse thyself with me in the days of my liber¬ 
ty, how wilt thou continue thy pilgrimage through 
life ? Thou hast tasted in my house of the pleasures 
of wealth, and may Heaven grant they may not 
have injured thy heart! A mediocrity such as thine 
was at first — a mediocrity which knows no con- 

E 



50 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


dition, and has no pretensions — is perhaps that 
which renders man most happy. But to return to 
it, after having abandoned it, seems painful to us; 
it seems to us as if we were humiliated, and that 
we should certainly be less happy than we were. 
But I, even from a prison, will reach thee, so that 
thou shalt accomplish thy course of study, that 
thou mayst be able to occupy an honourable posi¬ 
tion in society; and, if it is fated that on this earth 
we are to meet no more, remember sometimes that 
an unhappy man wished thee well, and do thou 
shed a few tears to his memory! ” 

And to myself, to persuade my mind that I did 
not merit such misfortune, I said: 

“ Compassion thou hast felt, as one feels the 
passions; thou hast always loved thy fellow-men— 
hast never hated thine enemies; nor dost thou 
hate them even now, although thou seest them 
insulting thee in thy calamity/' 

In this manner my days passed rapidly, and 
not without delight. And at night, swinging 
myself upon a chair, and keeping my eyes fixed on 
the Church of Murano, gilded by the rays of the 
setting sun, I went over in thought what I had 
written in the day, and recited, not without shed¬ 
ding some tears, those parts which the heart rather 
than the mind had dictated: I extemporised some 



AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


51 


verses on my present fate, and sang them to some 
old airs, or to a tune invented by me at the 
moment. 

Boats frequently passed by, with country people 
in them returning from the city, who sang a certain 
monotonous but not disagreeable song—“ Che hel 
cappel Marianna , che hel cappel Marianna ” &c. 
Sometimes there appeared in the distance a boat, 
from which came, borne on the waves to my ears, 
the sound of a sad but sweet and harmonious bal¬ 
lad. These were Bohemian gunners, who came on 
the laguna to sing the songs of their country. All 
this occasioned to my solitary heart soft and melan¬ 
choly emotion. The presence of another would 
drive away all the enchantment of these happy 
evenings. 

Whilst I was occupied one day with sorrowful 
thoughts, the door of the prison opened, and the 
gaoler entered, followed by a lively young man. 
“ Here/’ said he, “ is your companion ; he will live 
in the next room to you, and the door will remain 
open.” He was the Count Laderchi of Faenza.* 

* The Count Laderchi belongs to an illustrious family of 
Faenza. His father had been prefect at Camerino, and after¬ 
wards at Ascoli, during Eugene Beauliarnais’ Yice-royalty. 
Count Laderchi, although very old and infirm, is still living 
at Ferrara, where he is much esteemed. 


52 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


We soon began to relate to each other our adven¬ 
tures, and to hold consultations as to the mode of 
defending ourselves, and to calculate the probabili¬ 
ties, whether favourable or the contrary, for each of 
us. He maintained that it was impossible I should 
be declared guilty. I could not give him, in his 
case, the same encouragement. He had been, so to 
speak, left by the Papal Government to the Aus¬ 
trian, in order that the Commission of Venice might 
confront him with Professor Ressi. Laderchi had 
admitted, whilst in prison, where he had been sent 
after being arrested at Milan, that he had said to 
Professor Ressi, in the house of the latter, that he 
was a Carbonaro. The deposition of Laderchi was 
communicated by the Papal to the Austrian Go¬ 
vernment, which arrested Ressi, and made Laderchi 
come from Romagna to confront him. The inter¬ 
view took place. Laderchi repeated before the 
Commission, in the presence of Ressi, what he 
had said in the Romagna. Ressi complained, re¬ 
proached Laderchi with his conduct, and the mis¬ 
fortune in which he had placed him. Laderchi, 
sorrowfully and with emotion, said to him, “ You 
see I, too, am not upon a bed of roses.” He re¬ 
turned from the examination in despair, weeping. 
Professor Ressi, being guilty of the crime of non¬ 
revelation, was condemned to fifteen years' carcere 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


53 


duro. The Emperor remitted the punishment to 
five years ; but there was One who remitted it 
still more. Ressi died in San Michele di Murano, 
before either the sentence or the commutation of 
the punishment had been communicated to him. 

In the month of July, my brother Francesco 
came to visit me. The secretary, Rosmini, ac¬ 
companied him. We all four descended into the 
garden (Laderchi had at that time obtained the 
favour of walking there). We brothers walked 
first, Rosmini and Laderchi some paces behind us. 
My brother said to me in a low voice, “ They have 
arrested Scalvini.” “For what reason? ” “For a 
letter found at Mantua/' The two behind us (per¬ 
haps Rosmini had noticed our subdued conversa¬ 
tion) advanced so much that it was not possible 
for my brother to tell me more. These few words, 
however, were enough to banish from my poor 
heart the little serenity and peace which the hope 
of soon quitting prison had put in it. 

I tortured my mind for a long time to discover 
what letter could have given occasion for such a 
severe measure. Scalvini, from time to time, in¬ 
serted in his letters sarcasms against the Austrian 
Government, and I did as much in writing to him. 
But in them we had never planned any conspiracy, 
or even the shadow of one; and we sent our letters 


54 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


openly by post. I thought and thought again, and 
remembered at last that in one written to me in 
1819, from Milan, Scalvini had spoken in irreve¬ 
rent terms of the Emperor of Austria. “This/ 
said I to myself, “is certainly the letter which has 
caused Scalvini’s arrest.” And I was right. 

In 1819, the Emperor of Austria was expected 
to visit Milan. The Governor of Lombardy had 
commissioned Monti to write a cantata for this oc¬ 
casion. Scalvini and Monti saw each other often. 
Scalvini honoured Monti the poet, and loved the 
man, who, if he had many defects, had, neverthe¬ 
less, the most excellent heart. Monti thought 
highly of the perspicacity and fine critical judg¬ 
ment of Scalvini. Scalvini went one day to Monti, 
who, in a tone of indignation, said to him, “Do 
you know, the Governor forces me to write a 
cantata for the arrival of the Emperor. They are 
making sport of me—they know well I do not love 
the Emperor ! ” In spite of this repugnance, Monti 
composed the cantata. In that fatal letter, Scalvini 
gave me an account of this. 

No one except myself, to whom the letter was 
addressed, had ever seen it; and, if the police had 
not come to disturb it from the shelf on which, all 
dusty, it had lain for more than two years, it would 
be there still, ignored by all, and forgotten by our- 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIPE. 


55 


selves. Scalvini was kept in prison nine months 
in Milan; after which time the Tribunal having 
decided that the terms in which he had spoken 
of the Emperor were not a sufficient motive to 
establish criminal proceedings, he was taken back 
to Brescia, his native country, and set free, having 
previously been reprimanded by the President of 
the Tribunal. 

Scalvini suffered much in prison. He fel^ 
seriously ill, and they were forced to transfer 
him to the infirmary, where he had for neigh¬ 
bours, side by side, assassins, and to nurse him 
also assassins. He had, however, reason to be 
satisfied with them. They had a great respect 
for him, showed him great deference, and took 
affectionate care of him. He took occasion, from 
this distressing and strange vicissitude, to study 
one side of mankind, of which he would have 
been otherwise always ignorant; and he had the 
opportunity of knowing that few men, or none 
perhaps, are ever so forsaken by Heaven as to be 
entirely disinherited of goodness of heart. Plis 
poor mother saw him in this place, in this miser¬ 
able company ! 

Laderchi, seeing me one day plunged in pro¬ 
found sadness, came to console me, saying that 
my innocence was so manifest that there could 


56 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


be no tribunal in the world that could condemn 
me. I confided to him then that I was not dis¬ 
turbed on account of the present process, but for 
the arrest of Scalvini, and for fear the Govern¬ 
ment should come to discover something to charge 
me with concerning the Piedmontese Revolution. 
“ I have scarcely taken part in it,” said I; “ but 
I was at a conference at Pecchio’s with several 
persons, and we held a conversation which, if 
known by the Government, might do harm.” I 
had scarcely made this confidence to Laderchi 
than I repented it bitterly. I doubted at first 
whether, in the examination, he might not allow 
some words to escape him which would put the 
Commission on the traces of what I had done in 
Milan. I went then so far as to imagine that he 
might betray me voluntarily; that the Commission 
had placed him with me to discover the deepest 
secrets of my soul. All this castle of iniquity was 
a castle in the air. In a few days I recovered my 
serenity, in so far as my present situation allowed. 
At the end of July, Salvotti came to see me. I do 
not know from what motive he gave so much im¬ 
portance to the Song by Rossetti, but he insisted 
anew that I should acknowledge having spread 
it throughout Italy. I assured him it was not 
so, and he spoke no more of it. 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


57 


I then brought my process on the scene, and 
told him that it appeared to me I had befcn unjustly 
arrested, and that, as well as my health, my affairs 
would suffer from this protracted imprisonment. 
“Well,” said Salvotti, “make your request in 
writing to the Commission, in which you will ask 
to be set at liberty, declaring that in future you 
will conduct yourself in such a manner as not to 
cause the suspicions of the Government to fall 
upon you. That will help you.” 

To get out of prison, I do not know, within 
the limits of honesty, what I would not have 
written and promised. I drew up, therefore, the 
advised petition, and sent it to Salvotti. But 
the gates of the prison remained closed on me, 
nor was the petition a shield to preserve me from 
ulterior persecutions. 

A short time before, various books had been 
sent to me from my house; among them, seven 
numbers of the Revue Encyclopedique. What a 
feast! I had not read either review or newspaper 
since I had been arrested; and this total separation 
from the affairs of the world was most grievous to 
me : I therefore devoured these numbers. Salvotti 
did not know the Review ; he asked me to lend it 
him, and I gave it him willingly. “ Some liberal 
ideas he may take from it, perhaps,” said I to myself. 


58 


AN EPOCH OF MI LIFE. 


I was called anew before the Commission, 
which examined me for the last time, though it was 
more of a conversation than an examination. Sal- 
votti, amongst other things, said to me : “ You 

think, perhaps, that the Emperor does not know 
that princes are created for subjects, and not 
subjects for princes? He knows it as well as 
you. The Austrian Government is not an absolute 
Government. There are laws in Austria. No one, 
for instance, can be arrested without the evidence of 
at least two persons against him.” “ But I am an 
example of the non-observance of this protecting 
law of the liberty of citizens; I was arrested, 
although only Pellico had borne witness against me, 
or rather in my favour.” “ Ah ! in your case there 
were circumstances .... We know well that 
you are not a Carbonaro, and this Commission has 
nothing more to ask of you.” 

The manner in which Salvotti pronounced the 
two words, this Commission , and looked at me, made 
an impression on my mind, and raised in it sinister 
thoughts and presentiments. I reasoned thus: 
“ There are, then, other Commissions; I escape from 
one misfortune to fall into another.” And I reasoned 
well. The Government had instituted a Commis¬ 
sion in Milan for the affairs of Piedmont. But I 
did not know it until I came out of prison. 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIFE. 


59 


Salvotti, on taking leave of me, said, “Prepare 
your defence. We shall soon go to the island to 
hear it.” 

I knew well that the Austrian civil law does 
not accord defenders to those accused of any 
crime whatever; but, for the pleasure of mentioning 
what I thought (and think) to be an injustice, I 
said, “ Have the goodness to choose and send me 
an advocate.” 

“ The law,” replied he, “ does not allow 
advocates to the accused. We are your judges and 
defenders at one and the same time.” 

I drew up a brief defence, in which I dwelt 
especially on the concordance of Pellico’s de¬ 
position with mine. I added, that Governments 
could not desire that citizens should be too ready to 
denounce; by such a course, morality would lose 
more than justice would gain. A short peroration 
completed the address. 

The judges came, read the defence, praised it, 
and went away. 

August, September, and October passed, with¬ 
out any important events. 

Laderchi and I studied all the morning, each in 
his own room. At dinner, in walking, and at night, 
we spoke of our studies, of our relations, and of our 
friends. When it rained, we walked in the corridors, 


60 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


and met other prisoners. We were forbidden to 
stop and speak together; but we greeted each other 
with signs of sympathy and interest. One day, the 
gaoler made us enter the cells of the novices. 
These were so low that a person of middle height 
could scarcely stand upright in them, and only as 
long and broad as one could stretch. Political 
prisoners had been confined eighteen months in 
these cells, without ever going out of them except 
to the examinations. 

Count Beffa of Mantua came to see me; he 
was accompanied by the German judge. He had 
been in the Italian army, and had attained whilst 
young to the rank of chef-de-battalion of artillery. 
He had frank and simple manners; he spoke to 
me as to a free man, which made the judge stare 
and jump off his seat. I learnt from him the death 
of Napoleon. 

The German judge united the office of accom¬ 
panying the visitors to that of examining the letters 
that the prisoners wrote and received. Those which 
I received were sometimes more than half oblite¬ 
rated, and when I returned home I saw that those 
which I had written had met with the same fate. 
In one to my steward, they had suppressed this 
innocent phrase: “I recommend my affairs to you/' 
{Vi raccomando le cose mie.) I feared the judge’s 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE., 


61 


inexorable pen so much that I never dared write 
the name of one of my farms, called “ La Carlo - 
nara fearing that in hatred of this name he would 
withhold the letter. 

November arrived; my room became every 
day worse. I begged the President, who came to 
visit me, to give me another. He placed at my 
disposal and that of Laderchi—the Commission not 
having to meet any more on the island — the apart¬ 
ments it had occupied. There were two, large and 
good, exposed to the south, without bars, with 
large glass windows, from which we had the view 
of a neighbouring little island, and of all Venice in 
the distance. 

This act of condescension on the part of the 
President, his causing my books and furniture to be 
transported thither, and the change from a bad to a 
good lodging, were small incidents, but sufficient 
to produce the salutary effect of giving me a little 
cheerfulness and hope. 

The prison was guarded inside by turnkeys 
—outside by soldiers. The first were always 
the same. The soldiers were changed every 
tw T enty-four hours. They came from Venice, dis¬ 
embarked on the island, drew up in a courtyard, 
and charged their guns. I always had an aver¬ 
sion to the turnkeys, so that, by contrast perhaps, 


62 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


the presence of the soldiers almost gave me 
pleasure. Once I leant as far out of the window 
as I could to see them. The gaoler knew of it, and 
told me not to do so, because the sentinel might 
discharge his gun at me, such being their orders; 
this had happened to a prisoner, and, according 
to what the gaoler said, he was nearly killed. 

Each of these turnkeys served me by turns. 
One of these was a capricious man, and restrained 
the violence of his character with difficulty. When 
he had a holiday, he passed it at Venice in quarrels 
and disturbances. One day he complained of the 
rigour of the laws. “Now , 55 said he, “ if any one 
offends you, you cannot revenge yourself; if you 
kill any one, or only wound him, they hang or 
send you to the galleys. Under the Republic, you 
killed your adversary, and, with a little protection 
or time, the matter was hushed up.” Every morn¬ 
ing, when he came into my room, he repeated, with 
an appearance at least of affection, this phrase, 
“ Be of good cheer; you will soon get out.” (“ La 
se fassa animo ; la sortira presto’’) 

Another was a species of fop. Every time he 
went to the city, he asked my permission to put a 
little eau de Cologne on his pocket-handkerchief. 
The third was but a machine. 

This last had kind manners. He seemed to 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


63 


be fond of me. He conjured me to walk up and 
down my room for several hours every day, because 
he had observed that those prisoners who walked 
much rarely fell ill; those, on the contrary, who re¬ 
mained seated or stretched on the bed, often did. The 
gaoler was a man of a violent nature; this appeared 
in every action, and the pains he took to keep it 
within bounds were evident. He was, however, 
always courteous and respectful to me. He went 
every day to Venice, but he never left without 
coming to me and asking if I wanted anything. 
He had a daughter, a young girl of fifteen years of 
age, whom he never ceased praising; indeed, he 
idolised her. He had also two sons, and was always 
thinking of their future life. The thought that they 
would have to pursue his own career was terrible 
to him; and when one of them took a musket in 
hand, or swung a sabre, pretending to be a turnkey, 
he got into a fury. He sent them to school in 
Venice, and kept them as much as possible away 
from the island. 

And yet, woe to him who said anything ill of 
his profession ! One day I was walking in the gar¬ 
den with him and the Doctor, and the latter spoke 
of my present condition. “ You are fortunate / 5 said 
he, patting the gaoler on the shoulder; “ in spite 
of his profession, this is an honest man / 5 The 


64 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIFE. 


gaoler grew pale, bit his lips, but dared not say 
anything. Scarcely had the Doctor left than he 
hurled after him every sort of bad words and 
imprecations. The gaoler had a great devotion to 
Salvotti. El see un JDio por me. (“ He is a God 
for me,” said he.) Another favourite saying of his 
was this : Sin die glie sara dei Italiani in impiego 
no la podra andar ben . (“ Whilst there are only 

Italians here, things cannot go well.”) By Italians, 
he meant those employed by the ex-kingdom of 
Italy. 

Every time I went down into the garden, the 
soldiers who were not on guard saluted me; I 
returned the salute, and smiled. The whole con¬ 
vent was surrounded by sentinels. There was 
one under the window of my room. When his 
expression inspired sympathy and confidence, I 
looked all round to see that no one was observing 
me, and showed him a loaf or a coin ; if he made 
signs of acceptance (the unhappy understand each 
other easily), I threw down the one or the other. 
Not one of them ever refused my poor offering. 

When I took possession of my new lodging, 
and, looking out of the window, saw the little 
island, I was far from imagining by whom it was 
inhabited. I was not slow in discovering that it 
was the last home of the Venetians—the cemetery 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


65 


of the whole city. The arrival of a poor corpse 
was announced by the tolling of a bell. I could 
close my eyes so as not to see, but the first sounds 
of that melancholy bell I could not help hearing. 
Little by little, I accustomed myself to these sad 
sensations, and looked and listened voluntarily. 
About ten corpses a-day arrived—that is to say, 
about 3600 per annum. The population of Venice 
at that time was almost 100,000 inhabitants. This 
was a large tribute paid to nature, and at the same 
time a manifest proof of the miserable state to 
which the population of that once-flourishing city 
was reduced. 

One day, Laderchi and I being ready to go 
down into the garden, the gaoler told us to wait 
an instant, as he was going to bring a third 
companion. Who could it be? Perhaps Pellico? 
perhaps Romagnosi? The door of the prison opened, 
and a young man of about twenty-five years of age 
came gaily towards us. He threw himself into 
Laderchi’s arms. They held each other tightly 
clasped, for a long time in silence. Laderchi then 
said to me, “ This is Maroncellito Maroncelli, 
“This is Arrivabene.” We descended into the gar¬ 
den. The gaoler told us we might walk in it wher¬ 
ever we liked now, as the prisoner, on whose account 
we had been forbidden to do so, was with us. 


F 


66 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


Besides walking, it bad been conceded to Ma- 
roncelli to dine with us; and he remained with 
us two hours after dinner. Any third person 
would have brought a little novelty, a little 
variety, into our prison life. Maroncelli brought, 
besides these, knowledge, cheerfulness, almost 
gaiety. Separated, we occupied ourselves each 
with his studies ; reunited, we spoke more of 
these, and of our future fate, than of our present 
misfortunes. Maroncelli had many sorrowful 
presentiments. “ Some years of imprisonment 
await me for certain/ 5 he used to say; neverthe¬ 
less, he was the most cheerful of the three. Lader- 
chi and I went often to fetch him to walk with us 
in the garden. His little room was a kind of 
wooden cage. We always found him covered with 
a blanket, intent on writing. He had no paper, 
and he wrote in most minute characters on the 
outside of letters which he had concealed, I know 
not how, from the vigilance of the gaoler. 

On the 10th of December, 1821, we were all 
three walking in the garden, with the gaoler near us. 
A turnkey came to the gaoler, whispered something 
in his ear, and went aw T ay. The gaoler turned to me, 
and said, “The President is on the island, and 
asks for you. 55 “ What can it be? 55 “ Good 

news, certainly, 55 said my companions. And in 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


67 


truth the news was excellent. “You have been 
pronounced innocent,” said Count Gardani to me, 
with an accent of real joy; “ you are free, and may 
leave the prison immediately.” I remained for a 
moment astounded, bewildered: then I replied, 

“ It is late ” (it was two o’clock in the afternoon) ; 
“I have to settle accounts with the gaoler, and to • 
make preparations for departure. I will remain here 
until to-morrow morning.” Congratulations passed 
on the one side, thanks on the other; the Count 
went away, and I rejoined Maroncelli and Laderchi. 

In the moment of surprise and silence follow¬ 
ing the words of the Count, I, with that rapidity 
of operation which is the marvellous attribute 
of human intelligence, had considered my situa¬ 
tion and that of my companions. Seeing how 
indelicate it would have been to show an exces¬ 
sive impatience to separate myself from them, as 
if I had not been able to bear with moderation 
my good fortune, and how right, on the contrary, 
it was to devote some hours to consoling them, 

I resolved on staying till the morrow. When my 
companions heard that I was free, they showed me 
the greatest joy, and were touched when I told 
them that I should not leave them until the next 
day. 

In honour of this happy event, the gaoler left 


68 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


that evening the two prisoners and the free man 
together a little later than usual. 

I went to bed, but the excess of joy produced 
the same effect as the excess of affliction : the night 
was sleepless, like the one which preceded my de¬ 
parture from Mantua. At length the day appeared. 
I embraced Laderchi and Maroncelli, and said to 
them, “ These are not farewell embraces ; I am 
going direct to Salvotti to ask his permission to 
come and dine with you to-day. 5 ’ “ Ah ! you will 
not obtain it. 55 “ I hope I shall 55 —and I went. The 
permission, scarcely asked, was given without any 
restriction whatever, and I was not to be accom¬ 
panied by the German judge,—a favour which had, 
perhaps, never been granted to any one; but in 
that prison I was, as it were, at home.* 

* Modesty did not allow Count Arrivabene to dwell 
longer upon this incident of bis life. Maroncelli, however, 
thus mentions his noble conduct on the occasion :— 

“ Arrivabene was arrested at his villa of Zaita, and we 
met at Venice in St. Michael’s Island. I shall always 
remember this kind friend. That captivity was sweet, for 
it allowed us the material for writing and reading. Arriva¬ 
bene witnessed my literary occupations, I his ; and this 
association of study became the means of my acquiring 
fresh knowledge. It would be difficult to find in this world 
a man purer, fonder of good actions, or more ready to 
sacrifice himself to others, than Arrivabene. Such is the 
opinion of Pellico, of Porro, of Confalonieri ; and such is 


mine. 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


69 


I took a lodging in Venice, at the Hotel La 
Regina dTnghilterra. The waiter asked me who 
I was, and from whence I came. “ From the 
prison of San Michele di Murano,” replied I; 
which amazed him. I visited a few persons, 
bought some books and other things for the two 
prisoners, and returned to San Michele. The 
joy we felt in seeing each other again can only 
be comprehended by those who have been in 
similar circumstances. 

I had ordered the gaoler to prepare the best 
possible dinner to be obtained in the prison. The 
dinner was as cheerful as the situation of the two 
guests would allow. 

It grew late, and we were forced to separate. 

“ Agriculture and Political Economy were tlie studies 
of which he was fondest, for his mind, essentially practical, 
was always occupied in finding out means by which the 
misfortunes of the poor could be alleviated. In some degree 
to attain this result, Arrivabene had established at Mantua 
a school of mutual instruction, on the same principle as 
that established by Confalonieri in Milan. 

“ Being found innocent, Arrivabene was restored to 
liberty. The incident I am going to relate, and which 
happened on that occasion, reveals the high qualities of his 
heart, and proves how happy he was when an opportunity 
presented itself of being useful to his fellow-creatures. If 
I mistake not, he was set free on the 17th December, 1821, 
at two o’clock in the afternoon. There was plenty of time 


70 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


The embraces were longer and more affectionate 
than those of the morning. “Perhaps we shall see 
each other no more,” we said one to another. And, 
in fact, I never saw Laderchi again. Soon after 
my departure, he was sent by the Austrians back 
to the Papal Government, which removed him to 
Perrara, where his father was confined. The fate 
of Maroncelli is too well known for there to be any 
need for me to relate it here. I saw him twelve 

to arrange his trunk, to dine at five o’clock, and then to 
pay visits or to go to the theatre—two things of which 
Arrivabene was extremely fond. 4 No,’ he said ; 4 I 
will pass the night in prison.’ He spoke of night, 
although it was two o’clock in the afternoon. On the 
following day he left us. The noblest families of Venetia, 
to which he was related, the Princess Gonzaga, and the 
worthy President Gardani of Mantua, who had proclaimed 
his innocence, invited him to dinner, asking him to accept 
the invitation as a special favour. Arrivabene was grate¬ 
ful to all ; but he said to President Gardani, 4 You, sir, 
ought rather to grant me a favour.’ Gardani at once 
replied, 4 1 can deny you nothing. What can I do to oblige 
you ?’ 4 Let me return to my prison, for then I shall be 

enabled to carry the consolation of a free man to those who 
are still unhappy. I should like to dine at St. Michael’s 
Island.’ 

44 The excellent President felt how great was the desire 
of that noble soul, and granted the request. With what 
tears Arrivabene was received by us my heart remembers 
still, and no doubt has not been forgotten by him who is so 
quick in feeling and remembering all noble emotions.” 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


71 


years later in Paris, maimed, but not so changed 
in aspect as the sufferings he had undergone, and 
the years that had elapsed might have have led me 
to expect.* 

On returning from San Michele di Murano, I 
found at the inn Signor Tordoro, who had come 
on the part of the Countess Albrizzi, to invite me 
to a conversazione at her house. I knew this lady 
only by repute. The invitation was given to the 
man who had suffered unjustly. I went there, and 
found a numerous assembly of persons unknown 
to me. The Countess received me in the most 
friendly and courteous manner. She had heard 
that I had been to dine with my companions in 

* The following allusion is made to Maroncelli by the 
sister of Andryane, in her Journal, under date February, 
1832 :— 

“ A few days after, a man still young, yet so cruelly 
maimed that he could only support himself with the aid of 
crutches, presented himself at our house, saying that he was 
the bearer of news of my brother, the prisoner. At these 
words all the doors were open to him ; but what was our 
grief on hearing that he had been a captive with Silvio 
Pellico for nine years, and had recovered his liberty at the 
same time with him ! The unfortunate man had lost his 
right leg in consequence of the intolerable discipline of the 
prison. 

“ I will not attempt to describe here all the horrors of 
the recital of Maroncelli, neither the excess of their suffer¬ 
ing, nor the pain it gave us.” 


72 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


misfortune, and expressed her approbation. She 
did me the favour to show me by torchlight the 
bust of the Helen presented to her by Canova.* 
I left her with my heart filled with gratitude for 
such noble and delicate conduct. 

* Thus Byron writes of Countess Albrizzi, and of the 
famous Canova’s Helen which she possessed:—“ The day 
after to-morrow (to-morrow being Christmas-day) the Car¬ 
nival begins. I dine with the Countess Albrizzi and a 
party, and go to the Opera. On that day, the Phoenix, (not 
• the Insurance Office, but) the theatre of that name, opens. 
I have got me a box there for the season, for two reasons, 
one of which is, that the music is remarkably good. The 
Countess Albrizzi, of whom I have made mention, is the 
De Stael of Venice, not young, but a very learned, un¬ 
affected, good-natured woman, very polite to strangers, and, 
I believe, not at all dissolute, as most of the women are. 
She has written very well on the works of Canova, and 
also a volume of characters, besides other printed matter. 
She is of Corfu, but married a dead Venetian, that is, dead 
since he married. 

“ The Helen of Canova is, without exception, to my 
mind, the most perfectly beautiful of human conceptions, and 
far beyond my ideas of human execution. 

“ In this beloved marble view, 

Above the works and thoughts of man, 

What nature could, but would not , do, 

And Beauty and Canova can ! 

Beyond imagination’s power, 

Beyond the bard’s defeated art, 

With immortality, her dower, 

Behold the Helen of the heart! ” 


AN EPOCH OF MT LIFE. 


73 


The following clay I dined with the Princess 
Gonzaga. She was the wife of the Prince of that 
name, who, had it not been for the events related 
in history, would have been Duke of Mantua. She 
fled to Venice in 1796, and when the French came 
to Italy, had established herself there permanently. 
Although the Austrians possessed the State over 
which she ought to have reigned, she admired 
them passionately, and had a horror of the Liberals 
of every country, and of the Italian above all. She 
knowing me to be a Liberal, and suspecting me of 
being a Carbonaro, I leave it to the reader’s imagi¬ 
nation to guess whether she was prepossessed in my 
favour. However, a little adversity having touched 
me, her fellow-citizen, was enough with such a 
gentle soul as hers to induce her to become my 
friend. She overwhelmed me with kindness. She 
knew me very little before; but she now, perhaps, 
became aware that certain objects, seen near, are 
not so monotonous or so frightful as they appear 
from a distance, seen through the mist of party 
spirit. 

The third and last day of my stay in Venice 
I dined with Count Gardani. Plis nephew recited, 
to my great surprise, the hymn by Manzoni, “ II 
Cinque Maggio This was the first time that 

* See Appendix. 


74 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


I heard it. I remained silent, enjoying the im¬ 
pression which this noble and beautiful poem had 
made on me, when a person entered and said, 
“Do you know the news, Signori? Count Con- 
falonieri, the Marchese Pallavicino, and Signor 
Castiglia, have been arrested in Milan.” 

These few words, which, perhaps, left the others 
just as they were before, made me grow pale, and 
entirely upset me. The imagination, with its pro¬ 
digious fecundity, created phantoms of misfortune, 
which, alas! afterwards proved not to have been 
exaggerated. 

On the morning of the fourth day, I left Venice, 
and arrived by night at Verona. I had scarcely 
descended from the coach, and taken a lodging 
at an inn, than a person, who was unknown to 
me, entered my room, and said,— 

“ I am the father of that young merchant who 
used to buy oxen of you; permit me to have the 
honour of taking you to Mantua in my carriage 
with my horses.” 

I made a little resistance, but at last accepted 
this courteous offer, and made the honest man as 
cheerful and contented as if I had granted him a 
great favour. So I made my entry into Mantua 
in the carriage of the cattle-merchant. 

My relations, friends, and fellow-citizens gave 



75 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 

me a festive reception. For several days, visits 
succeeded each other without interruption. Men 
came of all parties, of all conditions. From the 
country my peasants came, and these without cere¬ 
mony threw themselves into my arms. Whoever 
was unable to come to me begged me to go to 
him. I shall remember all my life with filial af¬ 
fection that poor Count Filippo Cocastelli did so. 
He was an Absolutist, I a Liberal; he most devout, 
I certainly held by him as a man of little religion. 
The misfortunes which had befallen me had caused 
this inequality to be dispelled—had vanquished 
him, and made him my friend. He threw his arms 
round my neck weeping, and received me with the 
tenderness of a father. Also the Austrian General, 
Mayer, wished to see me, and give me testimonies of 
affection. In small cities, men of various opinions, 
if they wish to live in society, are often obliged to 
come in contact. The honest ones soon recognise 
each other, be they Absolutists or Liberals; they 
are forced to esteem one another, and the passage 
from esteem to sympathy is short and easy. These 
kind and gay receptions did not, however, suffice to 
distract my mind from the sorrowful thoughts and 
gloomy presentiments by which it was occupied. 

I visited during this time the delegate of the 
province of Mantua, Benzoni. He made demon- 


76 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIFE. 


strations of joy on seeing me again ; but they could 
not be very sincere, because we had no sympathy 
one for the other. Speaking of the recent arrests 
made in Milan, he—the friend at one time, a short 
time before the fellow-student and admirer, of Con- 
falonieri—spoke bitter words against him, and on 
taking leave of me said, “ The Austrian Govern¬ 
ment exacts from its subjects obedience—blind 
obedience.” 

The tone, unusually severe, of Benzoni, gave me 
to understand that the Austrian Government was 
determined to use extreme rigour towards the 
Liberals. This made me uneasy, and put me on 
my guard. 

I was desirous of going to Milan, to hear news 
of Scalvini and of those who had been recently ar- 
rested, and in order to discover something of the 
projects of the Government; but I delayed several 
days in setting out, not to excite suspicion. 

I arrived at Milan in the beginning of Jan¬ 
uary, 1822. I went immediately to see poor 
Countess Confalonieri. The first words she said to 
me were: “ Arrivabene, fly from Italy !” Her ad¬ 
vice was certainly wise, and was dictated by the 
affectionate interest she took in me; but, perhaps, 
the main cause of it was her fear that those who 
had spoken with her husband of the Piedmontese 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


77 


Revolution might be arrested, and by their depo¬ 
sitions might aggravate his situation. This fear 
induced her to desire that such persons should 
be removed from danger. I, however, had not to 
fear either the weakness (had he been as weak as 
he was strong) of Confalonieri, nor mine, because I 
had only had with him a conversation by signs. 
The two others who had been arrested (Pallavicino 
and Castiglia) I did not know. I did not follow, 
therefore, the advice of the Countess Confalonieri, 
not thinking the peril imminent for me. 

Great receptions were given me also in Milan. 
Here, persons who had never seen me, or who 
scarcely knew me, wanted to see me and to make 
my acquaintance. Amongst these I remember, with 
the tenderness of a son, the Counsellor Marliari. 
He was old and dying; but his heart was young 
and full of life. Another I mention with mixed feel¬ 
ings of reverence and affection. I was walking in 
the Corsia dei Servi; on the other side passed Ermes 
Visconti,* with another person. They crossed the 

* Ermes Visconti was born at Milan in 1784. He 
finished his studies at the University of Pavia. He had 
gone through all the classes — mathematics, law, medicine— 
not knowing what career he should take up. 

During the Kingdom of Italy, he was one of the officers of 
the garde d'honneur. Later, he was named auditor at the 
Conseil cCEtat. 


78 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


street, and came to me. Visconti congratulated me 
on seeing me at liberty, and then presented his 
companion. It was Manzoni.* There lived at 

After the fall of the Kingdom of Italy, he gave himself 
up to study, especially to that of philology. To the faculty 
of philosophical analysis, he united a love of the beautiful, 
both in literature and art. 

He commenced the study of German metaphysics, which 
he resolved to pursue at its fountain-head, in the teaching 
and conversation of Fichte, Schelling, &c. 

At a certain period, he was in the Conciliatore di Mi¬ 
lano , and a pleasing writer of the romantic school. Manzoni, 
in his well-known letter to Fauriel, cites one of the dialogues 
of Visconti, and praises it ; it is on the unities of time and 
place in the drama. Visconti was thought to be a sceptic; 
he became a believer. 

His conversion took place in 1827, at forty-three years 
of age. On the eve of it, he had been reading Benjamin 
Constant. He arose, to enter the bosom of the Church. He 
acted upon what he felt. 

From that moment he became a pious and fervent Ca¬ 
tholic. The love of God, shown in the love of one’s neigh¬ 
bour, fed continually by prayer, by meditation, by religious 
practices, and by a scrupulous watchfulness over the con¬ 
versation and senses—such was the rule of his life. 

He published successively his Philosophical Essays , 
Ideological Reflections on the Grammatical Language of 
Civilised Nations , Essays on some Questions concerning the 
Beautiful , and several other less important works. I*ft the 
latter part of his life, Visconti was writing Chytman Po¬ 
litics; in the midst of this work he died, in January, 1841. 

* It is hardly necessary to say who Manzoni is. His 
romance of the Promessi Sposi, his tragedies of the Car- 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


79 


Milan a fellow-citizen of mine with whom I had 
been bound in friendship from my first youth. He 
was Absolutist, rather than not; but he had a 
kindly soul, open to noble sentiments. 

magnola and the Adel chi, and his Ode of the 5 th May on 
the death of Napoleon, are translated into all the languages 
of Europe, and have borne his reputation to every part of 
the civilised world. 

But, if the author is generally known, the man is not. 

In his first youth, Manzoni was what is called an esprit 
fort; he did not remain long so. It is related of him that, 
being in Paris, he passed one day by chance before the 
church of Saint-Roch. Religious music, sweet and melodious, 
fell upon his ear. He entered the temple ; he left it moved 
to the heart—a Catholic, a fervent Catholic. 

But the religious sentiment did not stifle in him either 
the love of country or the love of liberty. These affections 
are spread all through his writings, and have penetrated to 
the hearts of the youth of Italy. 

When literature, in a country subject to foreign domi¬ 
nation, but devoted to the worship of national tradition, 
treats almost exclusively upon patriotic subjects, the foreign 
sovereign must be on his guard. A dark spot has appeared 
on the horizon, and this spot betokens the approaching 
storm. 

Manzoni has arrived at an advanced age; his health is 
nevertheless good, and his intellectual faculties have lost 
nothing of their first vigour. 

Milan, his native town and his habitual residence, is 
proud of its illustrious citizen. Manzoni latterly was at¬ 
tacked by a malady which threatened his life. Every day 
the people in numbers went to his house to hear how he 


was. 


80 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


“ Do you know, 5 ’ said I to him, “ that I am 
afraid of being arrested a second time? I am 
going to Mantua; if they imprison any Liberal 
here, let me know at once; write to your bro¬ 
ther, praying him to give me notice immedi¬ 
ately/ J 

Towards the end of February, Scalvini left prison, 

The modesty of Manzoni is only equal to the nobleness of 
his character, the elevation of his talent. He has constantly 
refused the honours offered to him by foreign sovereigns, 
and it was only because he could not avoid it that he ac¬ 
cepted those recently offered to him by Victor Emmanuel, 
the judicious interpreter of the national wishes. 

This first truly Italian king has raised Manzoni to the 
dignity of Senator, and named him President for life of the 
Institute, with a pension of 12,000 francs. 

When Manzoni appeared for the first time in the Senate, 
and took the oath, a respectful curiosity was evinced among 
the Senators and the numerous public in the tribunes. 

Manzoni has had the happiness to live long enough to 
assist at the regeneration of his country — a regeneration 
to which he himself has largely contributed. May Heaven 
grant that, before closing his eyes, he may yet see it free, 
independent, and complete mistress of its destiny—that land 
which he has so fondly loved, and of which he is one of the 
noblest illustrations ! Ermes Visconti, who is named in the 
preceding note, was the intimate friend of Manzoni. He 
also, as we have said, was at first an esprit fort; he also en¬ 
tered suddenly into the bosom of the Catholic Church. But 
he did not know, as Manzoni, how to keep within the limits 
of moderation, and his religion approached to intolerance, 
almost to fanaticism. 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


81 


and came to Brescia. I went to him. The first 
thing he said to me was, “ We must leave our 
country ; here it is not safe for us. In Milan they 
are preparing new State prisons; and, from what I 
have been able to discover, they will not be slow in 
filling them. It is absolutely necessary that we 
should leave Italy.” I had not the heart to take 
such an extreme resolution then, in spite of a fact, 
which proved how much the Government kept its 
eyes upon me. I wanted to go from Brescia to 
Verona, and could not obtain permission; I was 
compelled to return to Mantua, and from thence to 
go to Verona. I passed some days in great sus¬ 
pense ; at night, before approaching my house, I 
used to send a friend before me, to see if there 
were any gendarmes surrounding it. But after¬ 
wards I became more reassured. 

. At the beginning of April, I went to establish 
myself at Zaita, to delight myself (for the last time) 
with my dear paternal fields. I had brought with 
me from Venice some Turkish grain which I had 
cultivated and gathered in the garden of San 
Michele. I sowed it in those fields, — but others 
gathered it. 

On Easter-day, I made an excursion to Parma 
to visit my nephew Opprandino, who was there at 
college. I returned to Mantua on the second 

Gr 


82 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


festival. At night, I went into a cafe. The bro¬ 
ther of my friend who lived at Milan, whom I had 
requested to warn me, was there. 

“ Oh, Arrivabene ! ” he exclaimed, “ I was on 
the point of seeking for you. See what my brother 
tells me ! Read this letter! It contains the news 
of the arrest of Mompiani and of Borsieri.” 


83 


CHAPTER IV. 

FLIGHT INTO SWITZERLAND. 

On reading this letter, the blood mounted to my 
head, my heart beat violently, and I said to myself, 
“ To-morrow thou shalt be far from hence.'” 

I went to the theatre. My box was crowded 
with happy and cheerful friends; yet I, with anguish 
in my heart, stood between life and death, and, at 
the best, could only pass from my country into 
exile, from riches to poverty. Amongst the people 
I saw a trusty friend, and called him on one side. 
“To-morrow,” said I, “I shall be forced to fly; 

I have no money. We must find X-; he will 

lend me some.” My friend saw and spoke to him, 
told him that on the following morning, at an 
early hour, I had to conclude an affair for which I 
had need of eighteen or twenty thousand francs,— 
that he must give them me that very night I do 
not know what X-thought of such a strange 




84 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


demand. He left the theatre and went towards 
his house : we followed him. He opened a desk, 
took out eighteen thousand francs in gold, and 
gave them to me. I gave him a receipt, in which I 
promised to restore them within eight or ten days. 
He returned to the theatre, and my friend and I went 
sadly and silently towards my house, where, sadly 
and silently,* we separated. I told Giuseppe that I 
should start with him the following morning by 
daybreak, and that we should be absent eight days; 
and I gave him orders to prepare the necessary 
things. 

I passed the night in burning papers and 
writing letters. I executed a power of attorney for 
the person to whom I intrusted the difficult arrange¬ 
ment of my numerous and complicated affairs,—I, 
who was compelled without preparation to abandon 
them. 

Morning soon appeared. I opened the windows. 
An old domestic, who was in my house, and was 
more than seventy years old—a master rather than 
a servant, who used every morning to bring me my 
coffee—had already risen. “How! you up at this 
hour? ” “ Shall I bring you your coffee? ” “No, 
thank you; I am going into the country for a few 
days. Goodbye —a river did ! ” ... I never saw 
him again. He died only two years ago, more than 



AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


85 


ninety years of age. It was a great and grievous 
struggle, that of tearing myself away from my 
home. I am not ashamed to confess it; I kissed 
its walls repeatedly, weeping. When I entered 
the carriage, I told the coachman to take the 
road to Brescia, and to drive as fast as possible. 
Whilst on the w T ay, I thought it was perhaps 
hardly delicate to keep all the money given me the 
night before with such good faith by the person 
indicated above. I possessed two large farms, on 
which were eighty labouring oxen, with other 
cattle, corn, &c. I had left a letter for my agent, 
in which I gave him orders to sell oxen, grain, and 
all that should be necessary to make up the sum 
which I owed. But the measure was altogether 
a revolutionary one ; it might not be possible in 
the short space of eight days to realise the sum, 
and the least delay in the restitution of the money 
would have been a stain on my honour, and might 
have harmed him who, with so much good faith 
and disinterestedness, had lent it to me. 

I halted, therefore, at a village not far distant 
from Mantua, where I gave to a confidential person 
14,000 fr., to be immediately restored; which was 
done. 

There was also in this village a friend, who, 
w T hen I confided to him what I was about to 


86 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


do, proposed to accompany me to Brescia, and to 
help me. I willingly allowed him to fulfil this 
courteous offer. However imprudent and incau¬ 
tious I had been at first, I had now grown care¬ 
ful and guarded. Along that part of the road 
which I traversed alone, it seemed to me as if every 
one who looked in my face wanted to read the 
emotions of my soul; so I leant back in a corner 
of the carriage, and only raised myself occasionally 
to say to the coachman, “ Drive fast! ” The com¬ 
pany of my friend raised my spirits, and gave to 
my flight somewhat the air of a journey of plea¬ 
sure. The poor horses only rested once: under a 
pouring rain, in less than six hours, they took 
me to the neighbourhood of Brescia; the distance 
is about forty miles. We considered it prudent 
not to enter Brescia in my carriage, and so left 
it at the villa of a mutual friend, whence, having 
hired a fly, we went straight to Scalvini’s house 
at Brescia. 

He, seeing us arrive so unprepared and agitated, 
guessed at once what had been the motive which 
had brought us to him. We all agreed that there 
was no doubt that we must leave Italy, and that 
the sooner the better. Scalvini informed his 
mother of the peril in which he found himself, 
and that he could escape it only by going away 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


87 


from her. At this announcement she was terrified 
at first; she had but one son, and it was dreadful 
to separate from him—perhaps for ever! But she 
lovingly and piously said, “ If you are in peril, I 
shall certainly not keep you here/' Scalvini and I 
arranged to depart the following morning. 

In the meantime, the person who had come 
with me to Brescia had been to Camillo Ugoni to 
announce my arrival, and to communicate to him the 
determination which we had made, to show him that 
he also was in danger, and to persuade him to go 
with us. Camillo Ugoni did not yield to his en¬ 
treaties, nor to those which we afterwards made 
to him ourselves; so we took leave of him, feel¬ 
ing sure that he would remain at Brescia. But, 
late at night, just as Scalvini, his mother, and I, 
after having talked over our position to each 
other, were about to go to bed, we heard in the 
street under the window, and not without much 
agitation, a voice crying loudly, “ Scalvini! Scal¬ 
vini ! ” It was Camillo Ugoni, who came to 
announce that, after more mature consideration, he 
had decided to become our companion. 

It was arranged that he should leave at day¬ 
break, taking with him my servant, the carriage, and 
the luggage, and that we should meet at Concesio, 
in Zola’s house. 


88 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


This village is a short distance from Brescia, 
on the road to Switzerland, and was chosen by us 
as the place of our refuge. 

The dawn of the 9th of April did not appear 
as soon as I wished; but it did appear at last. The 
farewell embraces of mother and son were affec¬ 
tionate, but brief. We felt that the least delay to 
our departure might be ruin. 

When we left the house, we went in search of 
a carriage and horses, with which to go to Zola. 
I saw standing before the door of a house a horse 
saddled, and a man holding it by the bridle. I 
spoke to him, and begged him to lend me the 
saddle for three or four hours. “Impossible !” said 
he. “ But I will give you what you will—twenty, 
thirty francs/ 5 “ Impossible ; it is here ready for 
the use of the master of this house, who ordered it 
yesterday. 55 This was a truly foolish act of mine— 
the act of a person who did not know what he was 
about. This man might relate to others what had 
befallen him; the police might hear of it, and cause 
us to be followed. I found a saddle elsewhere, and 
by seven o’clock we were in Zola’s house. 

The kind reception given me by this unfortunate 
man (most unfortunate he was ; for afterwards he 
also was obliged to go away, wandering about, till, 
on account of the love which he bore a heartless 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


89 


woman, he destroyed himself at Lugumo), and my 
finding myself free, at the foot of the mountains 
which led to a place of safety, and of which they 
were the images, made me cheerful, and I felt 
that I should escape. 

But there was an obstacle of which we had 
not thought before. The passports with which 
we were furnished were only valid for the in¬ 
terior of the kingdom. I told Zola of this mis¬ 
chance. “That is nothing/’ said he; “leave me to 
manage ; in less than half an hour I will make 
your passports available for abroad.” He was a 
good doctor, and knew chemistry well; besides this, 
he was exceedingly ingenious, a man of invention, 
one of those w T ho never abandon an undertaking if 
they are not quite convinced that it is impossible. 
He went to the apothecary’s shop, and with I know 
not what fluid he obliterated the names of the cities 
and persons, in whose stead he substituted others, 
and we were provided with passports for Switzer¬ 
land. Ugoni only was now wanting to enable the 
fugitives to begin their journey. 

It struck nine o’clock—ten — eleven. Ugoni 
did not appear. My heart beat spasmodically. I 
went out into the street to see if he were 
coming. At length, towards mid-day, he arrived 
with Giuseppe and the luggage. The delay had 


90 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


not been his fault. A horse had fallen ill, and he 
had had to lose time in procuring another. As 
Ugoni had arrived, I insisted on leaving imme¬ 
diately ; but neither he nor Zola paid any attention 
to my words, thinking little of the danger. Ugoni, 
too, had not eaten anything; so Zola, instead of 
going to the stable to order the horses to be 
got ready, went into the kitchen to order the 
“ polenta.” We did not leave till towards three 
o’clock in the afternoon. Zola insisted on accom¬ 
panying us. 

We arrived by sunset at a village, and went to 
the house of some friends of Zola and Scalvini. 
We told them of our situation and our pro¬ 
jects. “ Do not fear,” said they, “ we will take 
you in safety.” They ordered a good supper and 
some mules to be got* ready. When we were 
about to start, one of them, taking me apart, 
said to me, “ In these cases it is useful to have 
plenty of money with one.” And he offered me a 
belt full of gold. It was no use to tell him that I 
had enough ; he insisted, saying that he could have 
it returned to him in better times. I compromised 
matters with him at last. I accepted the belt 
emptied of his money, and tied it round my body 
filled with my own. 

To this proof of generosity he soon added 


AN EPOCH OF MI LIFE. 


91 


another. We saw before the door of the house five 
mules standing. “ But we are only four/’ we said ; 
“ Zola goes no further/’ “ We shall be five,” said 
he, “because I am going with you/’ Thus at 
nightfall we departed, led by this generous man. 

The village is at the foot of a high mountain 
called the Colma, which divides it from a vallev 
into which we had to descend. The road, or, more 
correctly, the path, was very rough, and the night 
dark; but for this last inconvenience our friend had 
provided, causing to walk before us men carrying 
lighted branches of pine-wood in their hands ; and 
for the perils of the road the mules sufficed, being 
so experienced and prudent that they would have 
reassured Don Abbondio himself. Arrived at mid¬ 
night at the top of the mountain, we went to a 
house that had a sign-post; it was an inn. It did 
not enjoy a good reputation in the country; and, 
in truth, its position, remote from all human habi¬ 
tation, and the fierce aspect and herculean frame of 
the host, might well excite anxious thoughts in the 
mind of a solitary passenger. But we had nothing 
to fear. The host could ill dissemble his surprise 
at seeing such a numerous company arrive at such 
an hour, and guided by such a man. 

He made great demonstrations of devotion and 
respect, and turned the house upside down to 


92 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


accommodate us in the best manner possible. 
We took a little food, and threw ourselves dressed 
on the beds. At break of day we descended the 
mountain, and were conducted by our companion 
to the house of his friends, where we were received 
with open arms. He wanted to accompany us 
still further, even beyond the frontiers; but, after 
a long battle, we persuaded him to give up an 
enterprise which, if protracted further, might 
have been the occasion of misfortune to him 
who remained in Italy, without being necessary 
for our safety. We parted from him with much 
emotion, and with demonstrations more easily 
imagined than told. I never saw a man in whom 
goodness of heart was more expressed in the face 
than in his; he had an angelic countenance. 

We remained a few hours in the house of our 
new hosts; but we wished to arrive that night at 
Edolo, and we were yet a long way off. They pro¬ 
cured for us the only carriage which was to be 
found for many miles round; and, giving us a 
letter to a friend of theirs living at Edolo, bade us 
farewell. No remarkable incident occurred along 
the road. We met two gendarmes, who, as was 
natural, did not stop us; but to me it seemed 
very fortunate. At eleven at night, under the 
thickest darkness, and with dreadful weather, we 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


93 


arrived at Edolo. We stopped at an inn where 
the person lodged for whom we had the letter. 
He was in bed, and the innkeeper went to awaken 
him. He appeared for an instant on the landing 
of the staircase, and said, “ Speak to the host— 
he will do all that you desire,” and then vanished, 
apparently afraid of compromising himself by taking 
a direct part in our flight. We asked him to let 
us have by daybreak horses and guides to conduct 
us to Poschiavo, in the canton of the Grisons. lie 
said that they should be ready. Whilst they were 
preparing the beds, he led us into a room where 
there was a fire, and before which were spread 
out on chairs several uniforms. “What is this? ” 
we asked him. “ To-night,” he replied, “ some 
gendarmes arrived, wet through: before going to 
bed, they put their uniforms before the fire, so as 
to find them dry to-morrow morning; they also 
are going to start early.” The three fugitives, 
hearing these words,held a council, and unanimously 
agreed that it was necessary to hasten away from 
this ill-omened inn, and from Edolo, immediately, 
and to continue their journey. Were these gen¬ 
darmes for us, or for others? We called the 
innkeeper, and told him that we had altered our 
plans, and wished to depart directly. He made 
no difficulties, and showed no surprise. He was 


94 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


an intelligent man, and probably guessed who we 
were. Though he might have availed himself of 
our situation to extort as much money as he 
pleased, he made us pay only a most moderate fare 
for the horses. He inspired me with so much 
confidence that I left my portmanteau, containing 
500 francs in silver, in his charge, to be sent to 
me at Poschiavo; and the portmanteau arrived 
safely. 

In less than half an hour, guides and horses 
were ready. It poured with rain. I had preferred 
commencing the journey on foot; but it was with 
difficulty, on account of the slipperiness of the 
path, that I kept my feet. One guide—he must 
have been a smuggler—supported me. His aspect 
was forbidding, his clothes ragged. He repeated 
to me several times (because he had certainly 
understood that we were fugitives, and that I 
doubted him), “ Do not doubt me; I am badly 
dressed, but I am an honest man/ 5 

We were on the road towards Tirano, a large 
town of Valtellina, on the frontiers of the Grisons. 
We were obliged to pass a high mountain, called 
the Zapei della Briga. On such a night, and in 
darkness, we were obliged to ascend this mountain; 
but the danger arose not so much from this as from 
a station of gendarmes placed at the top, which 



AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


95 


we could in no way avoid. We arrived at this 
perilous point by daylight. The gendarmes lodged 
in a little house a few paces distant from the path¬ 
way ; the door was open, but no one appeared. 
We began to descend the mountain, at the foot of 
which lies Tirano. Having accomplished about half 
the descent, we halted, and held council with the 
guides, who had already become our friends and 
confidants. The point discussed was this : Would 
it be well to take the high-road, traverse Tirano, 
and pass the frontiers in sight of the Custom 
House officers ; or to take a by-path ? The guides 
observed that the officers were not accustomed to 
stop passengers, and ask for their passports : per¬ 
sons they did not regard; they kept their eyes open 
only for goods, especially now that there was a fair 
at Poschiavo, when they would have enough to do 
if they took it into their heads to stop every one 
who passed. But, in any case, if they did stop us, 
and ask who we were, we could reply that we 
were cattle-dealers who were going to the fair at 
Poschiavo. If we took the by-path, the officers 
from their post could see us pass, and might sus¬ 
pect us; or some of them might be lying in ambush, 
which they often were, in order to surprise smug¬ 
glers. “A little lower down the road, not far from 
hence/’ said the guides, “lives a friend of ours, who 




96 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


knows the country better than we do : if you think 
proper, we can go and hear his opinion; 55 and so 
we did. The friend of these good people was a 
wealthy mountaineer, a certain Giovanni, a hand¬ 
some and intelligent young man, and a kind soul. 
He soon understood our position, and took a lively 
interest in us. “ Do not be afraid,” he said ; “ go 
on; I will go with you. But, not to attract too 
much attention, it will be well if we leave two out 
of the three horses below. 55 

We set out on our way : Scalvini and I on the 
one sole horse; Ugoni, Giuseppe, and the others 
on foot. We went through Tirano at a pace 
neither slow nor rapid, as men who are not in 
particular haste. We arrived at the fatal point— 
the last perilous step. Our ruin or our salvation 
might depend on the inspiration of an official. 
We passed before the station of the Custom 
House officers. None of them were there, but 
some were walking about at a little distance. The 
guides had remained on purpose 200 paces 
behind us, because they had thought that the 
officers would be more likely to question them than 
us. By these means they could easily keep them 
engaged in conversation, and we should in the 
meantime have passed the frontiers. And so it 
turned out. Two officers left the others, and 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


97 


we saw them coming towards us. Scalvini and I 
set spurs to the horse, Ugoni and Giuseppe 
quickened their pace, and the post which sepa¬ 
rates the Austrian from the Swiss dominions was 
behind us: our foot trod on free ground; we 
were safe; we had escaped an imminent peril. 
God be praised! 

The guides soon rejoined us, and, all full of 
emotion, we threw ourselves into each other’s arms. 
These poor, honest persons had been our preservers. 
We went all together to Poschiavo, including 
Giovanni, who the following morning came to take 
leave whilst we were in bed, and parted from us 
weeping. 

I know not whether my exile, now of more than 
sixteen years’ date, will ever have a termination, or 
whether it will last my life.* But, if it should 
ever be conceded to me to place my foot again on 
my native land, I will retrace, if I am able, my 
steps when a fugitive, and I will go in search (to 
bless some, to bless and reward others) of those 
who, rich or poor, educated or ignorant, con¬ 
tributed with all their strength of heart and mind 
to mv deliverance. 

* The reader will remember that this was written in 
1838, when no hopes could be entertained of seeing Lom¬ 
bardy free.— Author’s JSote. 


98 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIPE. 


Oh, what joy, what delight, must not those have 
experienced who came to the knowledge of the 
destiny from which they saved me ! 

We remained a day at Poschiavo, to repose our¬ 
selves a little after the anxiety we had suffered, the 
fatigues we had endured, and to think whither we 
should turn our steps. In 1819, Ugoni and I 
had spent some time at Geneva. In that city 
lived Rossi, Sismondi, Bonstetten, and other learned 
and good men known to us. We decided that the 
best thing for us was to go to Geneva, and take 
counsel of those friends. 

We passed that part of Switzerland which se¬ 
parates the canton of the Grisons from that of 
Geneva, without any difficulty whatever. Rossi, 
Sismondi, and Bonstetten, took a lively interest in 
our situation. 

Bonstetten, old in years, was youthful in mind, 
of a cheerful and playful spirit. Ugoni and I 
had been recommended to him the first time we 
were in Geneva, by Monsignor de Breme. When 
he read that Ugoni was a Brescian, he pretended 
to be afraid of him, and lifted up his coat to see 
that he had not under it the pistore scavez * 
Then he told us the following anecdote, which he 

* A sort of blunderbuss used in former times by the 
Brescian peasants.— Translator's Note. 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


99 


said had happened to him in Brescia, forty-five 
years before. “ I was in a cafe, drinking some 
lemonade, when I felt some one behind me put 
something on my shoulder, and say to me, ‘ With 
permission! ’ and an instant after there was a re¬ 
port ; it was a gentleman who had shot at another, 
and had killed him, using my shoulder as a resting- 
place for his gun.” In 1822 came my turn. 
When he saw me enter his room, “ Ah! ” ex¬ 
claimed he, “ I just expected youand, coming 
behind my shoulders, he took my head in his two 
hands, and, shaking it, said : “ Elle tient encore” 

Bonstetten and the other friends were all una¬ 
nimously of opinion that we could not remain 
long at Geneva. Many of the proscribed French 
and Italians congregated in that city, and the 
Government often made a clearance of them. 

Better for us to go to France or to England. But 
the trouble lay in the passports. Those metamor¬ 
phosed by Zola were not fit to sustain the exami¬ 
nation of the French police. Sismondi thought 
that the English Minister residing at Berne might, 
if he liked, put an end to our embarrassments. “ I 
do not know him,” he said, “ but I am entitled to 
give you a letter of recommendation to him 
such title being the celebrity of his name, and his 
having married an Englishwoman. Sismondi there- 


100 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


upon wrote a dignified and warm letter to the 
English Minister. 

“ These friends of mine,” said he, “ are escaping 
from the persecutions of despotism. You are the 
representative of a free people. On whom does it 
fall more than on you to defend and protect men 
who have become wanderers, and lost all that ren¬ 
ders life dear, for having wished to make their 
country free and independent? They desire to go 
to France or to England, where they hope to find 
the hospitality, the peace, which they seek here in 
vain : they have no passports; I recommend them 
to you, to the generosity, to the nobility, of the 
English character, that they may obtain that 
which they desire, and which is necessary to 
them.” 

We remained six or seven days at Geneva, and 
were about to go to Berne, when the police sum¬ 
moned us, and told us to depart. We scornfully 
replied, that we knew well that no hospitality was 
to be looked for in Geneva; that we had already 
intended to turn our backs on it; and that we 
should be gone immediately. 

Sismondi, during our stay at Geneva, sus¬ 
pended his literary labours, and devoted his time 
to us, to cheer and console our spirits. 

When we arrived at Berne, Ugoni went to the 


* 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIFE. 


101 


English Minister, and presented Sismondi’s letter. 
The Minister refused the passports. 

What was to be done ? “ Let us go to the 

island of St. Pierre, Rousseau’s island,” said one of 
us; “ we will rest there some days, and then form 
some plan.” 

And so we became the solitary visitors of the 
island. The long, beautiful avenue of poplars 
which leads to the only house of the place, the 
house, the farmer, the flocks, the dogs, the ancient 
oak-tree, the tranquillity of the spot, are still in my 
mind. We stayed twelve days on the island. 

We went then to Yverdun, to endeavour to 
obtain passports. By good fortune, we found 
there an acquaintance of Ugoni’s, the advocate 
Prati, a Tyrolese. He was said to entertain ex¬ 
treme political opinions. Whether this were so 
or not, I do not know; but what I do know 
is, that he exercised great influence over persons 
of high position, and that his recommendations 
were most useful. He conducted us himself 
to St. Croix, a commune independent in certain 
acts of any other canton, and having the right to 
grant passports. Prati obtained them for us at 
once. Passports of this nature, however, were 
not available except in the cantons. Prati had 
procured them only as stepping-stones to the next. 


102 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


Scalvini and I (Ugoni then separated from us) 
went, according to Prati’s advice, to Arau, furnished 
with letters to the Catholic rector of that city, and 
to the Director-general of the Police of the canton. 
“Ah, M. Prati!” he exclaimed when he had read 
the letter, “you shall have the passports.” He 
gave them to us the following day, for Prance and 
for England. 

But even these passports, though of more use 
than the others, could not give us entire confidence; 
on no account would we change our names nor our 
country, so that passports granted by Swiss au¬ 
thorities to Austrian subjects could not but ex¬ 
cite suspicion. It was our wish to- go to Paris. 
We were, however, advised, before venturing to 
traverse so great a part of Prance, to stop at some 
city on the frontiers for some time, and then to 
pursue our way. I remembered then that, in 1819, 
I had travelled some days in Switzerland with three 
Strasbourgers, Doctor Hermans, his wife, and a 
Monsieur Koop. This circumstance determined me 
to choose Strasbourg for our first residence in 
Prance. I thought that these acquaintances 
would be useful to us ; and I thought rightly. At 
Basle, in order to escape the impediments which 
we might have met with on the frontiers of Prance, 
we hired a boat, and went down the Rhine in it as 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIFE. 


103 


far as Strasbourg. It was a bad choice, so far as 
the comfort and pleasure of the voyage were con¬ 
cerned. The boat barely held us three and the two 
boatmen; exposed to the burning sun of July, we 
were roasted. We had agreed with the boatmen 
that they should take us to Strasbourg in one day ; 
but they did not keep the contract. Towards even¬ 
ing they left the river, and entered certain canals to 
the right of it, where they disembarked at a village 
in the duchv of Baden, their usual residence. We 
were obliged to pass the night there, and arrived 
at Strasbourg only the following morning. Scal- 
vini and 1 entered the city unobserved, and went to 
the best inn,, the “ Saint Esprit.” Sunburnt in 
the face, dirty, without any servants, without lug¬ 
gage, we were ill-received, and had a bad room 
given to us. I asked for another, and told them 
that in a few moments our servant would arrive 
with our things. They paid no attention. Then 
I drew out of the belt of skin, the gift of the good 

-(thirty or forty doubloons of Genoa), and asked 

the waiter how many francs they would give in 
exchange for those gold pieces in Strasbourg# He 
went out, returned with an answer, and with a face 
different from the first, and took us to a better 
room. At length Giuseppe arrived with the lug¬ 
gage (he had met with obstacles in the city, but 



104 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


had surmounted them), and little by little the 
doubt of the host was changed into confidence, in 
token of which he lent us a carriage, in which we 
subsequently made our entry into Paris. 

I went to find out my acquaintances, dis¬ 
covered them, and confided to them our situation 
and our wants. I found them courteous, and 
greatly disposed to be of service to us. 

“ With the passports which you have,” they said, 
“it is impossible to get to Paris. Remain here one 
month, at the end of which we will present you 
to the Mayor, and testify as to your being persons 
known to us, and honest; and he will grant you 
passports with which you may at once proceed 
securely on your way to Paris.” 

We followed the advice of this good man, and 
our end was attained. We arrived in Paris 
towards the 10th of August, 1822. The wonders 
of that great metropolis, the novelty and variety of 

the objects which strike the eye, distracted my mind 

✓ 

at first from the consideration of my present lot, and 
from endeavouring to raise the veil which covered 
my future destinies. These were not long in pre¬ 
senting themselves before me in dark and threat¬ 
ening guise. 

It was the end of August. I went to Gali- 
gnani’s news-room, together with Scalvini. He re- 




AN EPOCH OP MY LIFE. 


105 


mained in the first room; I went into the second. 
I took up the Gazetta di Milano and read the 
act of accusation of the crime of high treason, 
directed by the Commission of Milan against me 
and eight other rebels—the notice to appear within 
sixty days before them, on pain of sequestration of 
my possessions, if I did not present myself within 
the prescribed term. 

I ran to Scalvini. “ What means this paleness 
on your face?” said he to me. Without opening 
my lips, I held out to him the Gazetta di Milano . 

As soon I had recovered from the consternation 
which this announcement occasioned me—from the 
despair into which I had fallen—I turned my mind 
to considering how I should save my property from 
the threatened sequestration, which might become 
a confiscation. 

I had need, above all, of guidance and advice. 
In Italy, I had always looked upon France as the 
classic ground of liberty. The names of her most 
eminent Liberals were familiar to me, and I be¬ 
lieved the lovers of liberty, of every country, to be 
the friends of the oppressed, if they were oppressed, 
or likely to be tyrannised over, there existed frater¬ 
nity and union. 

I was not long in finding out that, with 
some honourable exceptions, it is not so. 


106 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIFE. 


I went straight to M. Dupin, with the con¬ 
fidence with which one has recourse to a friend. 
He was not in Paris. I was then advised to 
apply to the advocate Teste. He had been pro¬ 
scribed in 1815 b^ the Bourbon Government, after 
the second Restoration, and had saved himself by 
hiding in the house of some friends. In 1822, the 
proscription of Teste was nominal, he lived in Paris 
unmolested. He received me with open arms. 
“We may reckon on four months,” said he, “be¬ 
fore the issue of a second citation, with another 
sixty days; and, in less than three months, I 
hold myself sure of placing all that you possess in 
Italy in safety.” He was exceedingly occupied, yet 
he gave gratuitously much thought to my affairs, 
and devoted much time to them. In the prescribed 
term, all my possessions had passed legally into 
friendly hands, and would have remained there if 
violence had not been done to the laws. The 
noble conduct of Teste did not stop here. Bear¬ 
ing that I might find myself in want of money, 
he opened ail account for me at his banker’s, of 
which I had never to avail myself, but which he 
never withdrew. Fortune showed herself every 
hour more smiling to M. Teste; but I doubt if he 
ever experienced emotions more lively and more 
pure than those which filled his soul when he was 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIPE. 


107 


labouring for my benefit. May be not be offended 
that I here reveal the secrets of his generosity! 
may he consider that, equally with debts of money, 
it is honest and imperative to pay those of grati¬ 
tude ; and that, if bad examples are mischievous, 
good ones are fruitful of results advantageous to 
humanity 1* 

In the second citation, the crime of higli 
treason, so far as it concerned me, was described 
in the following manner :—“ Having taken part in 
a plot in which it was decided that the National 
Guards and the Provisional Government, to both of 
which he would belong, should be ready at the 

* When the Minister Teste was accused before the 
Chamber of Peers, in France of having accepted 100,000 
francs, for favouring the interests of an individual to the 
damage of the State, I said to myself: “ How is it pos¬ 
sible that he who acted towards me with so much deli¬ 
cacy, disinterestedness, and generosity, should have fallen 
into such a fault ?” A debt of gratitude imposed on me 
the obligation of fetting the public know his conduct towards 
me I therefore went to the Marquis de Romigny, then 
Minister of France to the King of the Belgians, told him 
the facts, and asked him if it seemed to him right that I 
should give them the greatest publicity possible by means 
of the French journals. The Marquis thought it better that 
I should communicate the fact to the Grand Chancellor,— 
and I did so. My declaration was sent to its destination, 
and arrived there at the very moment in which Teste was 
confessing himself guilty.— Author’s Note , written in 1860. 


108 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIEE. 


moment of the Piedmontese invasion; that then 
constitution of Spain should be proclaimed, and 
that, making common cause with the enemy, they 
should excite the population of this kingdom to arm 
itself against the legitimate Government of Austria, 
and that deputies should be sent to Turin to settle 
matters with the Piedmontese conspirators, touching 
the operations to be carried out in the country. 

“ Having charged himself with the operations 
necessary in Mantua, to promote the conspiracy; 
having also disbursed a considerable sum of 
money/' 

The conspiracy of which I was accused of having 
taken part was, undoubtedly, the meeting at 
Pecchio’s house, for I was at no other. How this 
could have come to the knowledge of the Com¬ 
mission, which accused us of having said more 
than we did say, I do not know. Of the five 
persons present at this meeting, three (that is, 
Pecchio, Rossi, and myself) fled from the country, 
and, therefore, cannot have spoken. The two 
others (namely, Borsieri and the Councillor Carlo 
Castiglia) remained in the country, and were ar¬ 
rested. These may have spoken. But why the 
first should have been condemned to death, and 
the others set at liberty after a long imprisonment, 
is not easy to explain. 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


109 


As to the second part of the accusation, that is 
a mistake of the Commission. The great sum 
which I disbursed, in order to promote the con¬ 
spiracy, is the 1000 francs given to Pecchio for the 
purpose mentioned in the beginning of this book. 

1 put my affairs in order, having reason to fear 
being expelled from Prance, and towards the end 
of 1822 I went to England. In the autumn of 
1828, my property was sequestrated, and on the 
21st January, 1824, I was condemned to death 
as refractory. I have related the few particulars 
known to me concerning the political events of 
Lombardy in 1821, and the men who took the 
principal part in them ; and having led the reader 
step by step through the varied phases of my life, 
imprisonment, flight, poverty, and proscription, the 
work undertaken by me is accomplished. Eor 
the tranquillity of any gentle heart which the story 
may have more or less affected, I will add, that 
looking back on my misfortunes, [ dwell upon them 
with gratitude, as having led me a step higher in 
the improvement of my moral being. 

By them the mind is strengthened. Plaving 
been placed in contact with a large and more varied 
portion of mankind, and having found it better 
than it appeared to me when first seen through the 
mist of national prejudices, I feel for it, and 


110 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


especially for its unhappy portions, a more in¬ 
tense love. The spectacle of the foreign world, 
and of its different customs, has opened a new 
horizon to me: the intellectual activity which 
reigns in the countries in which I have lived, the 
necessity of an occupation which should take away 
my thoughts from dwelling on the loss of all 
that was dear to me, — this has impelled me to 
make use of my intelligence, bringing to an end 
some literary works which are, perhaps, not entirely 
useless to my country, and from which I have 
derived the purest pleasures. To these misfortunes, 
above all, I owe that certain extreme theories, 
created solely by the imagination, and uncontrolled 
by experience, were brought within the limits of 
the possible, of the practicable; and that, with¬ 
out denying the sacred principles of liberty, of 
justice, of national independence, I could accept 
with toleration the sincere opinions of others. By 
them, after a struggle with old habits — a struggle 
which, to say the truth, was neither long nor hard— 
I have been able to content myself with little, to 
look at those more miserable than myself with pity, 
rather than at those more fortunate with envy. 

To my calamities, in short, I am indebted for 
a benefit which can never be prized too highly, by 
whoever values the dignity of man. 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIFE. 


Ill 


Living in free countries, I have found myself in 
a political position frank, clear, and sincere, because 
in harmony with my opinion, which I can manifest 
without danger, and modify or change from my sole 
inward conviction, without fear of being taxed with 
hypocrisy or cowardice. 


Brussels , January 30, 1838. 




PAPERS AND NOTES 


ILLUSTRATIVE OF 


THE MEMOIRS. 



•' •> 



































. • 


. 










. 

' 



































115 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


4 

I. 

I. R. Government of Milan. 


Notification . 


The Society of the so-called Carbonari, which has 
spread itself in several neighbouring States, has at¬ 
tempted to make proselytes also in the Imperial and 
Royal States. From the inquiries which have been 
made with this view, the aims of this Society, as 
perilous to the State as they are criminal, have 
been discovered, although not avowed to every 
member of it by the superiors. 

By the express command of H.M. the Emperor 
and King, these aims are made public, as a warning 
to his subjects. The object to which the Society 
of the Carbonari is directed is the overthrow and 
ruin of governments. 

From this it follows, that whoever has had 
knowledge of this object, and has notwithstanding 



116 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


connected himself with the Carbonari, from the 
tenor of Art. 52 of the first part of the Criminal 
Code, has made himself guilty of the crime of 
high treason; or whoever, according to Art. 54 
and 55 of the first part of the said Criminal Code, 
has not impeded the progress of this Society, or 
has omitted to denounce the members of it, has 
become an accomplice of the same crime, and 
incurred the penalty established by the law: so 
that, to commence from the day of the publication 
of the present notification, no one can excuse 
himself by not having had knowledge of the 
precise object of the aforesaid Society of the 
Carbonari; and, consequently, whoever enters into 
the said Society, or whoever, according to the tenor 
of what is prescribed in Art. 54 and 55, shall have 
omitted to hinder the progress' or denounce* the 

* Numerous instances of the strict application of such 
an immoral law not only occurred in the political trials of 
1820, 1821, and 1831, but even later. One of the saddest 
illustrations of it happened during the famous political 
trial of 1853, which caused the deaths of Canon Enrico, 
Tazzoli, Speri, Dr. Poma, and Count Montanari, who were 
hanged at Mantua. One evening, Professor Marchi had 
been invited to meet some persons at the house of a friend. 
He went totally ignorant of the motive of such a meeting. 
Once there, he was made aware that a secret political com¬ 
mittee was going to be established at Mantua, with the 
object of bringing about a revolutionary movement, and 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


117 


members of it, will be judged according to Art. 53, 
54, 55, and 56 of the first part of the Criminal 
Code given below. 

Count di Strassoldo, President. 

Guicciardi, Vice-Preside?!t. 

Baretta, Councillor . 

Milan , August 29th , 1820. 

Extract from the 1th Chapter of the first Section 
of the Criminal Code, first part. 

Art. 52. 

Is guilty of high treason — 

(a) Whoever attacks the personal safety of the 
supreme head of the State. 

(&) Whoever attempts to make a violent revolu- 

Marchi was begged to become one of its members. Although, 
a staunch and warm patriot, Professor Marclii did not 
think proper to accept the offer, and withdrew. Being 
an honest man, he could not think, even for a moment, 
of denouncing his friends, as by the law he ought to have 
done. But a person who attended the meeting, tortured 
to death by Colonel Racknow, the Austrian Military 
Auditor, mentioned that Marchi was present, though he 
hastened to add that he had declined to join his friend in the 
formation of the Secret Committee. This was enough : 
Marchi was condemned to fifteen years’ hard labour. He 
passed five of them in the fortress of Josephstad, where he 
suffered so much that the poor man is now nearly blind.— 
Translator 1 s Note. 


118 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


tion in the system of the State, or to draw upon 
the State a danger from without, or to increase this 
danger, either doing so publicly, or in secret, by 
persons separately or in association, by plots, by 
counsel or action, by, or without, force of arms, 
by communication of secrets leading to this end, 
or by conspiracies; by instigation, enlistment of 
troops, spying, help, or any other act directed to 
this end. 

Art. 53. 

This crime is punished with death, although it 
may have been without effect, and within the limits 
of a simple attempt. 

Art. 54. 

Whoever, with knowledge of the same, neglects 
to prevent an enterprise leading to high treason, 
when being able easily, and without personal 
danger, to arrest its progress, renders himself 
guilty of this crime, and is punished with car cere 
durissimo (penal servitude) for life. 

Art. 55. 

• 

Whoever voluntarily omits to denounce to the 
magistracy any one guilty of high treason, known 
to him, renders himself an accomplice in this crime, 
unless from the circumstances it should result that, 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


119 


notwithstanding the omitted denunciation, no 
dangerous consequences were to be feared. This 
accomplice is punished with carcere duro (strict 
imprisonment) for life. 

Art. 56. 

Whoever has taken part in secret conferences 
tending to high treason (specified in Art. 52 b), 
but afterwards, moved to repentance, has disclosed 
to the magistrates the members, the statutes, the 
aims, the intentions, the attempts thereof, whilst 
they are still secret, and if he can hinder its con¬ 
sequences, is assured of complete impunity, and of 
the secresy of his denunciation. 


II. 

Citation. 

. The Special Criminal Inquisition having been 
opened for the crime of high treason against — 

1. Giuseppe Pecchio, land proprietor, of Milan, 

2. Giuseppe Vismara, native of Novara, esta¬ 
blished at Milan, 

3. Giacomo Pilippo de Meester-Haydel, of 
Milan, 

4. Costantino Mantovani, advocate, native of 
Pavia, established at Milan, 



120 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


5. Benigno, Marquis Bossi, land proprietor, 
native of Como, established at Milan, 

6. Giuseppe, Marquis Arconati-Visconti, land 
proprietor, of Milan, 

7. Carlo Cavaliere Pisani-Dossi, land pro¬ 
prietor, of Pavia, 

8. Pilippo Count Ugoni, land proprietor, of 
Brescia. 

9. Giovanni Count Arrivabene, land proprietor, 
of Mantua, 

According to the articles 490 and 494 of the 
Penal Code, the I. R. Special Commission, sitting 
at Milan, orders the said Pecchio, Vismara, de 
Meester, Mantovani, Bossi, Arconati, Pisani-Dossi, 
Ugoni, and Arrivabene, to appear before it, at 
latest, within sixty days from the date of this cita¬ 
tion, to justify themselves of the crime imputed to 
them. 

By the I. R. Special Commission.* 

(Signed) Della Porta, President . 

Salvotti. 

De Menghin. 

D. A. D. Rosmini, Secretary. 

Milan , August 10 th, 1822. 

* A Piedmontese refugee, to whom Andryane had been 
introduced by Buonarotti, said to him about this Special 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


121 


III. 

Edict. 

Considering that Giuseppe Pecchio, land pro- 
prietor, of Milan; Giuseppe Vismara, advocate, na- 

Commission, at tlie same time warning him against the dan¬ 
gerous character of his mission,— 

“ What would you do in a country overwhelmed with 
terror and consternation, and having her best men either 
in prison or in exile ? Have you not heard that an In¬ 
quisitorial Commission, armed with arbitrary power, keeps 
the strictest surveillance over Lombardy, not to say over 
all Italy ? Do you. not know that by order of this Com¬ 
mission more than a hundred men have already been im¬ 
prisoned, and that it daily adds to the number of its victims ? 
Have you not been told that Confalonieri is among the 
prisoners, and that without him nothing can be done in 
Milan ? ” 

“ These obstacles may be surmounted by prudence and 
determination.” 

“ Ah, you think so, young man ! and you seek advice 
from me ? Introductions ! Well, I am willing to give you 
some. I will commend you to some good patriots, who are, 
like myself, well schooled by experience ; men of courage, 
as well as of discretion, who have firmly retained their prin¬ 
ciples ever since 1796, but who have lived too long to trust 
to chance. My friend Buonarotti is less prudent, no doubt. 
I would lay any wager that he has loaded you with a bundle 
of papers equally useless and dangerous, and quite sufficient 
to compromise half Italy ; such as regulations, ciphers, 
diplomas, and similar nonsense. It is his hobby. If you 
have any such wares, do not take them with you. Secret 
societies are not in season now ; in a few years hence it may 


122 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIFE. 


tive of Novara, established at Milan; Giacomo 
Filippo de Meester-Haydel, land proprietor, of Mi¬ 
lan ; Costantino Mantovani, advocate, native of 
Pavia, living at Milan; Giuseppe Marquis Arco- 

be otherwise ; but to fire now such a volley under Safvotti’s 
nose would be to jump down a precipice.” 

“ There is nothing to be done then, in your opinion ? ” 

“ I do not say that ; I only wish to put you on your 
guard. Will you not give me credit for being ready to 
take advantage of anything that may lead to the liberty 
of my unfortunate country ? Time ripens all things; 
but I am not one of those who say, ‘ Provided the grain 
grows and ripens, perish the sower ! ’ Though I am 
so advanced in years, and ought therefore to be the more 
eager to see my country free, yet I am not unwilling to 
intrust the accomplishment of that great act of justice to 
the slow progress of civilisation. When events are above 
our control, what is the use of kicking, as it were, against 
fate ? Last year I thought and acted differently, because I 
hoped that the time was come for a general revolution in 
Italy, and that there was a chance of throwing off the 
foreign yoke. We have failed ; and, however hard a thing 
exile may be at my age, I do not repent of having joined the 
brave men who despaired not of the safety of their native 
country. All is now changed ; we can neither act openly, nor 
conspire secretly. With the exception of the Roman States, 
and some parts of the kingdom of Naples, there is not a corner 
in Italy where six individuals would dare to meet to confer 
on political affairs. Individually, they are all good and 
trustworthy ; in council, you would see them hesitate and 
give way, from the fear of informers. You can therefore 
do nothing better than to see our friends one by one, and 
tell them what is passing abroad. That will revive their 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


123 


nati-Visconti, land proprietor, of Milan; Carlo 
Pisani-Dossi, land proprietor, of Pavia; Pilippo 
Count Ugoni, land proprietor, of Brescia; and Gio¬ 
vanni Count Arrivabene, land proprietor, of Man- 

hopes ; and, if the moment for action comes, we shall find 
them prepared to display all their energy against our op¬ 
pressors. If your mission only served to rouse the courage 
of the Carbonari, and to collect information for increasing 
their numbers in better times, it would prove of great im¬ 
portance to our cause. One sheep will make the whole flock 
leap. But you will yourself see your way when you are on 
the spot. I shall now write the letters, for our supper must 
be nearly ready.” 

“ I cannot have the pleasure of supping with you : it is 
late, and I must return to Lugano.’’ 

“ Well, then, let us drink a bumper to Italy.” 

In a few minutes the letters were ready, but it rained 
more than ever. 

“ Indeed,” said he, “ you had better pass the night here : 
the road to Lugano is extremely bad. I cannot offer you a 
very sumptuous apartment ; but we conspirators,” he added, 
with a smile, “ must content ourselves with a roof to protect 
us from the inclemency of the weather, a pillow upon which 
to repose our head, a loaf to appease our hunger, and a 
glass of wine, when we can get it, to drink with a friend 
to the triumph of the good cause. Such is my lot : is it 
not enough when we are past threescore ? As to confisca¬ 
tions, I care not : my children are provided for.” 

We drank a glass or two of wine, (continues the 
refugee), exchanging a few more words on the affairs of 
France and Italy ; and then embraced each other as cordially 
as if we had been intimate friends. As I was stepping into 
the carriage, he seized me by the hand, and led me back to his 


124 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


tua; have not presented themselves within the 
time assigned them by the Citation of August 10th, 
1822. 

Seen § 429 of the Criminal Code. 

The I. R. Commission of first instance, sitting 
at Milan, again cites the afore-named Pecchio, Vis- 
mara, De Meester-Haydel, Mantovani, Bossi, Arco- 
nati-Visconti, Pisani-Dossi, Ugoni, and Arrivabene, 
to appear before it, at latest within sixty days from 
the date of the present edict, to justify themselves 
of the crime of high treason imputed to them; 
concerning: 

1. Don Giuseppe Pecchio: 

(a) Of having made himself the propagator in 
Lombardy of a secret Society, called the “ Federati 
Italiani ” in consequence of the resolutions made 
in concert with some of the principal Piedmontese 
conspirators, towards the first days of February 
1822, with the design of overturning the legitimate 
* Austrian Government in Italy. 

room. “You are a brave youth,” said he, “but for Heaven’s 
sake do not burden yourself with those accursed papers ! 
Take care that you do not fall into the snares of the police. 
When you talk of our affairs, let it be tete-a-tete ,—never with 
more than one, never ! In the eye of the law, a negative is 
as good as an affirmative, so that you have your fate in your 
own hands. Do you understand ? Farewell, my good 
friend ! God bless you ! ”— Translator's Note. 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


125 


(0) Of having formed with several Austrian 
subjects the plan of a National Guard, to be orga¬ 
nised in Lombardy, the roles of which were in¬ 
tended to be filled up by the “ Federati” at the 
moment of the invasion of the enemy, with the de¬ 
sign of augmenting the force against the legitimate 
Government of Austria, and having also concurred 
in drawing up the list of the officers destined to 
command it in Milan. 

(c) Of having with several Austrian subjects 
formed the plan of a Provisional Government 
(■ Giunta ), which should at the moment of the Pied¬ 
montese invasion usurp the sovereign power, and, 
embracing the cause of the enemy, excite the po¬ 
pulation to arm themselves against the legitimate 
Austrian Government. 

(d) Of having falsely guaranteed a powerful 
co-operation in this country, and solicited the chiefs 
of the revolutionary Piedmontese Government, and 
the commanders of those rebel troops, to invade 
Lombardy, in order to excite the revolt, of which 
in the meantime he actively encouraged the ele¬ 
ments. 

2. Giuseppe Vismara: 

(a) Of having already participated in the plan 
of the conspiracy organised with the Piedmontese 
Sectarians, and diffused in Lombardy the Society of 


126 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


the “ Federati Italiani ” with the aim of overturn¬ 
ing the legitimate Government of Austria in Italy. 

(&) Of having solicited of the chiefs of the re¬ 
volutionary Government of Piedmont, and of the 
commanders of those rebellious troops, the invasion 
of Lombardy, with the design of exciting insur¬ 
rection, and proclaiming there the Constitution of 
Spain, exciting the people to arm themselves, and to 
make common cause with the enemy. 

(c) Of having also, after his flight, continued to 
occupy himself with the project of promoting, at 
the most opportune moment, insurrectionary move¬ 
ments in Italy, to overthrow the legitimate Austrian 
Government, and of having induced to this end 
several Lombard subjects to accept his ideas and 
to co-operate in his designs. 

3. Giacomo Filippo de Meester-Haydel: 

(а) Of having taken part in a plot in which it 
was decided to cause an insurrectionary outbreak 
in Milan a few days after the announcement of the 
revolt of Piedmont, and to proclaim the Constitution 
of Spain. 

(б) Of having also approved of the plan of the 
National Guard, tending to promote the cause of 
the enemy. 

(c) Of having co-operated in Piedmont, in order 
that the rebel troops might invade Lombardy, and 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


127 


there excite revolt against the legitimate Govern¬ 
ment of Austria in Italy. 

4. Costantino Mantovani: 

Of having, after being active in Milan for the 
greater diffusion of the Society of the “ Federati 
Italiani” repaired clandestinely to Piedmont, 
where he promoted the development of that re¬ 
volution, co-operated in the publication of proclam¬ 
ations by which he excited the people of Italy 
to take up arms against Austria, and solicited of 
the enemy the invasion of Lombardy, with the in¬ 
tention of stirring up revolt against the legitimate 
Austrian Government in Milan. 

5. Benigno Marquis Bossi: 

(a) Of having taken part in a conference in 
which it was decided that the National Guard and 
the Provisional Government should be established 

as soon as the Piedmontese invasion occurred, and 

/ 

that then they should proclaim the Constitution 
of Spain, and, making common cause with the 
enemy, should excite the population to arm them¬ 
selves against the legitimate Austrian Government 
in Italy; and that they should in the meantime 
send deputies to Turin to consult with the Pied¬ 
montese conspirators on the operations to be car¬ 
ried on in that country. 

( 'b ) Of having gone, shortly after the revolt 


128 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


broke out, secretly to Piedmont, and unit¬ 
ing himself to Pecchio, and co-operating in vari¬ 
ous attempts which were made there to invade 
Lombardy by rebel troops, and to excite revolt 
against the legitimate Government of Austria in 
Italy. 

6. Giuseppe Marquis Arconati-Visconti: 

(a) Of having joined the secret Society of the 
“Federati Italiani ,” with the design of contributing 
to the overthrow of the legitimate Austrian Govern¬ 
ment in Italy. 

(3) Of having disbursed a considerable sum of 
money in order to promote the projects of the 
conspirators. 

(c) Of having in Turin, on the 17th day of 
March, 1821, repeatedly excited the enemy to in¬ 
vade Lombardy, and to stir up revolt against the 
legitimate Austrian Government in Italy. 

7. Cavaliere Carlo Pisani-Dossi: 

(a) Of having belonged to a secret Society di¬ 
rected to subvert the Austrian Government in 
Italy, and to which he endeavoured to make prose¬ 
lytes in this kingdom. 

(b) Of having aided the development of the 
Piedmontese insurrection, and of having tried to 
increase the force of the enemy; of having solicited 
it to invade Lombardy, in order to excite there 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


129 


revolt against the legitimate Government of Austria 
in Italy. 

8. Filippo Count Ugoni: 

(a) Of having joined the secret society called 
the “ Federati Italiani ” in Milan, and afterwards 
of having given all his care to diffuse it in Brescia 
and its district, with the design of overthrowing the 
legitimate Government of Austria in Italy : 

(b) Of having, towards the middle of March 

1821, proposed to some persons to surprise 

the public money, the remittances of which were 

expected at Milan, and^o commence at the same 

time an insurrectionary movement in Brescia and 

«/ 

its neighbourhood, and, in order to divert some 
of the Austrian troops and promote the invasion of 
the Piedmontese, to make common cause with 
them against the legitimate Government of Austria 
in Italy : 

(c) Of having, on his return from Piedmont, 
where he went towards the 19th of March, 1821, 
to examine the state of things in that kingdom, 
proposed anew that insurrectionary movements 
should take place in the Brescian territory in order 
to hasten the invasion of the revolted Piedmontese 
in Lombardy. 

9. Giovanni Count Arrivabene : 

K 


130 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


(a) Of having taken part in a conference in 
which it had been decided that the National Guard 
and the Provisional Government of which he was to 
become a member should be both established at 
the moment of the Piedmontese invasion ; that then 
the Constitution of Spain should be proclaimed, 
and, making common cause with the enemy, should 
excite the population of this kingdom to arm them¬ 
selves against the legitimate Austrian Government, 
and that deputies should be sent to Turin, in the 
meantime to arrange with the Piedmontese conspi¬ 
rators as to the operation® to be performed in this 
country: 

(b) Of having undertaken to carry out the ne¬ 
cessary measures to be taken in Mantua, in order to 
promote the success of the revolution; of having 
also for this end disbursed a considerable sum of 
money. 

Notice is, therefore, given to the aforesaid 
Pecchio, Vismara, de Meester-Haydel, Mantovani, 
Pisani-Dossi, Arconati-Visconti, Ugoni, and Arriva- 
bene, that at the expiration of this new term, 
without their having presented themselves before 
the Commission, they will be held as having con¬ 
fessed themselves guilty of the crimes imputed to 
them, and proceeded with according to law. 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


131 


For the I. R. Commission : 

Della Porta, President. 

Salvotti. 

De Menghin. 

De Rosmini, Secretary. 

Milan, October 19 th, 1822. 

IV. 

Sentence* 

According to the results of the criminal prose¬ 
cution, instituted by the Special Commission in 

* The details of the reading of the above sentence are 
thus related by Andryane : — 

“ ‘ Has the Count recovered ? ’ asked for the fourth time 
a person dressed in black, to whom all present bowed 
[Confalonieri had been ill.] A gendarme having made a 
sign in the affirmative, he added, ‘ Every one must be at 
his post; in a few minutes I will fetch the prisoners.’ 

“ ‘ It is to appear before the Commission,’ said Confalo¬ 
nieri ; ‘ they are going to read our sentences to us.’ 

“ These words were hardly uttered when a'door was 
opened quickly. 

“‘Tell the accused to come forward,’ cried one of the 
officers of the Commission. 

“Preceded by some commissaries of Police, we advanced 
slowly toward the middle of the line which the gendarmes 
had formed on each side. Confalonieri leaned upon me, and 
I felt his legs tremble. If the distance is great, thought I, 
he will sink. Happily, a few seconds brought us to the 


132 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


Milan for the crime of high treason.—Against the 
arrested: 

room where all the members of the Commission were waiting 
for us, ranged in a semicircle round a table lighted by 
flambeaux. To the left of the President was Salvotti, look¬ 
ing paler and more sinister than ever. They placed us 
along the wall facing the tribunal; and the silence, which 
our arrival interrupted, was restored. This moment of 
expectation was long and terrible ; but my greatest anxiety 
was lest Confalonieri’s convulsions should return before our 
iniquitous judges. What cruel joy would it have given 
Salvotti, whose eyes were fixed in bold defiance on us ! The 
calm expression of the Count, as he turned for a moment 
towards me, brought back my confidence. 

“ At length, the President, whom we had never seen, 
made a sign to the Secretary to read the sentences. His 
trembling hands could scarcely hold the fatal paper. He 
began, but his voice failed him after he had pronounced the 
first few words. Already had Salvotti stretched out his 
hand, no doubt that he might himself proclaim the tragic 
result of his infernal proceedings, when the Secretary re¬ 
sumed. 

“ ‘By the sentence of the Imperial Commission, confirmed 
by the Supreme Tribunal of Yerona, and sanctioned by 
his Majesty, the Count Frederick Confalonieri, accused and 
convicted of liigh-treason, is condemned to death/ There 
he stopped. 

“To enjoy the terrible effect which this sanguinary doom 
must produce on the victim, Salvotti cast on him piercing 
and triumphant looks. But he was deceived ; no alteration 
was visible in the countenance of Confalonieri. 

“ After a long pause, the Secretary continued : ‘But the 
capital punishment, by the inexhaustible clemency of his 



PAPERS AND NOTES. 


133 


1. Federigo Count Confalonieri, of Milan, 

2. Alessandro Filippo Andryane, of Paris. 

Majesty, has been commuted to imprisonment for life in the 
fortress of Spielberg.’ 

“ A slight shudder arose among the assistants. Confalo- 
nieri remained immoveable. Pallavicini repeated the words, 
mingled with sighs and murmurs. 

“Some minutes elapsed before the reading recommenced, 
when we heard the words: ‘ By a similar sentence of the 
Imperial Commission, confirmed by the Supreme Tribunal 
of Verona, and sanctioned by his Majesty, Alexander An¬ 
dryane, aged twenty-five years, accused and found guilty of 
high-treason, is condemned to death ; but, by the inex¬ 
haustible clemency of his Majesty, the capital punishment 
is commuted to imprisonment for life in the fortress of 
Spielberg.’ 

“The eyes of Salvotti, lighted up with a cruel satisfaction, 
seemed to say, 4 1 promised you this !’ while in those of Con- 
falonieri, which were turned towards me, was seen the most 
tender compassion. I replied to the one by a pressure of 
the hand, to the other by a smile of pity. I heard the cer¬ 
tainty of my life being saved without emotion and without 
joy. I had already suffered so much that the sorrow of my 
heart exceeded my desire of life. 

“They now passed sentence on the others. Pallavicini, 
Borsieri, and Castillia, were condemned to twenty years’ 
solitary confinement ; Tonnelli. to ten years. When the Se¬ 
cretary concluded, the President addressed to us some words, 
exhorting us to merit by our conduct the clemency that his 
Majesty had shown us. We listened in silence; and, 
without answering a word, bowed, and retraced our steps to 
the chapel. 

“ The signal for departure was given. Pallavicini walked 


134 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


Against the refractories,— 

3. Giuseppe Pecchio, of Milan, 

proudly in front, his chains ringing at every step ; Castillia 
and Tonnelli dragged theirs slowly; Borsieri’s foot caught 
his, and he was in danger of falling with violence. Confa- 
lonieri and myself came next, walking closely, in order that 
my friend might with more ease support himself on my arm. 
A gendarme offered his assistance, but he rejected it. We 
descended step by step a stone staircase, from which we 
could hear more distinctly the solemn murmur of the voices 
of an expectant multitude. 

“ Already, on the right, on the left, upon every side 
around us, in the court of the Palace, on the staircase, under 
the gateway, were seen functionaries, officers of all ranks, of 
all arms, citizens, even females, who had solicited the sad 
satisfaction of contemplating the victims of absolute govern¬ 
ment. 

“‘Here is Confalonieri ! Here is Confalonieri!’ was re¬ 
peated on all sides. ‘My God, how pale he is !’ Anxiously 
T cast my eyes on his face, trembling lest I should see there 
tiie forerunners of a nervous paroxysm. But he reassured 
me by a look, and a stronger pressure of his arm. 

“The Hungarian infantry formed the line, supported by 
hussars, who were scarcely able to keep the throng back 
from us as soon as the cry of ‘ Here they come ! ’ had passed 
from mouth to mouth. The undulations of the crowd were 
such that the narrow passage by which we were to walk to 
the pillory was often on the point of being choked up. The 
hussars were at last forced to back their horses upon the 
multitude, crushing them till thousands of shrill voices rent 
the air. 

“ ‘ How are you ? ’ I frequently inquired of Confalonieri 
during this tumult; ‘ shall we stop for you to gain breath ? 



PAPERS AND NOTES. 


135 


4. Giuseppe Yismara of Novara, residing at 
Milan, 


“‘No, no,’ said he; ‘let us keep moving; if we pause, 
I shall perhaps fall.’ 

“‘Let us keep moving then,’ I repeated after him ; and 
my fear lest he should faint was such that I could not 
breathe. 

“ Shortly afterwards we reached the foot of the pillory, 
which had been erected against the walls of the Palace. 
Pallavicini and Borsieri began to mount the steps of the nar¬ 
row staircase, which we could only ascend singly. Scarcely 
were their heads raised above the multitude, when a great 
exclamation was heard, followed immediately by a dead 
silence. In less than two minutes they stood on the pil¬ 
lory, and the gaoler fastened them, facing the spectators, to 
large rings of iron clamped into the stone at regular dis¬ 
tances. When Castillia, Tonnelli, and Borsieri had arrived, 
a captain of the Hungarian cavalry said to Confalonieri, 
with an air of disdain, 4 It is now your turn.’ The Count 
mounted, but I saw with what pain he raised his feeble legs. 
His breathing became shorter and more oppressed, and in 
mortal perplexity I asked myself, ‘ Will he ever reach the 
top ?’ 

“ No sooner was he in sight of the people than a cry of 

‘ Confalonieri! Confalonieri! ’ was heard. All then re- 

*> 

lapsed into silence. 

“ ‘ Courage ! ’ said I, placing myself at his side ; ‘ rest 
your arm again on mine ; the greatest difficulty is over¬ 
come.’ 

“‘ I hope so,’ he replied. ‘ Am I pale ?,’ 

No, no,—'all will be well.’ 

“I cast my eyes around the square and crowded streets, 
and saw only thousands of heads raised towards us, while 


136 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


5. Giacomo Filippo de Meester - Hay del, of 
Milan, 

the windows of every house were filled with men and women 
leaning forwards, the better to observe us. But there was 
nothing painful in this lively curiosity; nothing which 
could make us think that we were surrounded by an indif¬ 
ferent or prejudiced populace, ready to rejoice over so 
odious an exhibition. Far, very far, from that. Had I been 
less uneasy, less occupied with poor Confalonieri, I might 
have noticed among this immense crowd unequivocal marks 
of compassion and interest. I confess even that I could not 
have imagined the Milanese — under the eyes of their 
masters, whose numerous battalions garrisoned the whole 
town—to have been capable of a public manifestation so 
clearly anti-Austrian. It is a testimony I am happy to have 
it in my power to render them. 

“ Some minutes elapsed in this silent spectacle, when the 
general attention was suddenly attracted towards a balcony, 
which was situated on the left above us, and on which 
several persons had just shown themselves ; one of whom, in 
uniform, held in his hand a roll of paper. The silence be¬ 
came still more profound ; attention was at its height ; and 
when the crier commenced, at first with a trembling voice, 
to read the sentences, it appeared as if every spectator had 
in one of us a brother, a parent, or a friend, whose deplo¬ 
rable fate he was about to hear. But hardly had he con¬ 
cluded the words — ‘By the clemency of his Majesty the 
capital punishment of Count Confalonieri is commuted to 
solitary imprisonment for life in the fortress of Spielberg,’— 
hardly, I say, had he concluded these words, when a 
sudden tumult, a universal, energetic, and prolonged mur¬ 
mur, revealed what a painful effect this act of ‘inexhaustible 
clemency’ produced on the multitude. All eyes were turned 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


137 


6. Costantino Mantovani, of Pavia, 

7. Benigno Marquis Bossi, of Milan, 

to Confalonieri as if to pay him a tribute of commiseration 
and respect. 

“When my turn came, and they heard that I also was 
condemned for life to the dungeons of Spielberg, there was 
a fresh exclamation ; and many words of compassion, which 
went to my heart, all at once made me conscious of the 
despair of those whom at this critical moment I had endea¬ 
voured to efface from my memory, lest the thought of them 
should overcome my fortitude. 

“ There was one instant when Confalonieri, at whom I 
kept looking every second, shut his eyes and dropped his 
head. My anxiety for him increased ; I could think of 
nothing but his dread and grief at the idea that his fainting 
would be attributed to weakness or cowardice. ‘Frederick, 
Frederick!’ I exclaimed, my heart full of bitter regret at 
my inability to offer him the least assistance or support. 

“He raised his head languidly, and turned towards me, 
his face covered with perspiration. ‘ I feared I should be 
ill,’ he answered, in a weak and faltering voice ; ‘but, 
please God, I shall still hold up. Ah, from what a heavy 
weight I feel myself relieved ! The victory — for it will be 
a victory not to be the laughing-stock of our enemies—now 
appears more sure, more probable; and a flash, almost of joy, 
animates my heart, even at this fatal moment.’ 

“The sentences were read. The crowd now became 
denser, and more and more anxious to approach us ; it would 
have ended in their expelling the troops, if we had been left 
exposed as long as the Commission had ordered. But the 
police, uneasy at this manifestation of interest, took upon 
themselves to withdraw us from the scaffold some minutes 
before the appointed time.”— Translator's Note. 


138 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


8. Giuseppe Marquis Arconati-Visconti, of 

Milan, 

9. Carlo Cavaliere Pisani-Dossi, of Pavia, 

10. Pilippo Count Ugoni, of Brescia, 

11. Giovanni Count Arrivabene, of Mantua. 

And against the arrested,— 

12. Pietro Borsieri di Kanilfeld, of Milan, 

13. Giorgio Marquis Pallavicini, of Milan, 

14. Gaetano Castiglia, of Milan, 

15. Andrea Tonelli, of Coccaglio, 

16. Prancesco Baron Arese, of Milan, 

17. Carlo Castiglia, of Milan, 

18. Sigismondo Baron Trecchi, of Milan, 

19. Alberico di Pelber, of Milan, 

20. Alessandro Marquis Visconti d’Aragona, of 

Milan, 

21. Giuseppe Rizzardi, of Milan, 

22. Giovanni Battista Comolli, residing at Milan, 

23. Giuseppe Martinelli, of Cologna* province of 

Brescia, 

24. Paolo Mazzotti, of Coccaglio, 

25. Luigi Moretti, of Mantua: 

all accused of the crime of high treason. 

Seen, the sentence of the said first Commission 
of the 30th May, 1823, as to Andryane, and of the 
28th February, concerning the others ; 

Seen, the sentence of the second Special Com- 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


139 


mission, bearing the date for Andryane of the 15th 
July, 1823, and for the others of the 11th of the 
said July ; 

The Royal Imperial Lombardo-Venetian Senate 
of the Supreme Court of Justice sitting at Verona, 
by its decision of the 27th of August, concerning 
Andryane, and of the 9th of October concerning 
the others, has declared,— 

1. That the arrested—Federigo Count Confalo- 
nieri, and Alessandro Filippo Andryane, as well as 
the refractories—Giuseppe Pecchio, Giuseppe Vis- 
mara, Giacomo Filippo de Meester-PIaydel, Cos- 
tantino Mantovani, Benigno Marquis Bossi, Giu¬ 
seppe Marquis Arconati Visconti, Carlo Cavaliere 
Pisani Dossi, Filippo Count Ugoni, Giovanni Count 

Arrivabene, and the others arrested—Pietro Bor- 

• • 

sieri di Kanilfeld, Giorgio Marquis Pallavicini, 
Gaetano Castiglia, Andrea Tonelli, and Francesco 
Baron Arese, are guilty of the crime of high-treason, 
and has condemned them to the punishment of 
death on the gibbet, applying to the contumacious 
the regulations contained in the paragraph 498 of 
the Penal Code. 

2. It has also declared that it suspends the 
proceedings for the crime of high-treason, for want 
of legal proofs, against Carlo Castiglia, Sigismondo 
Baron Trecchi, Alberico de Felber, Alessandro Mar- 



140 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


quis Visconti d’Aragona, Giuseppe Rizzardi, Gian- 
battista Comolli, Giuseppe Martinelli, and Carlo 
Mazzotti, condemning, however, all of them, as 
well as all those previously named, to the payment 
of the costs of the process in solidum , and to the 
payment of their board expenses according to the 
paragraph 537 of the Penal Code; and all the noble¬ 
men found guilty of the crime of high-treason to 
the loss of the rights of the Austrian nobility. 

3. It has also declared, that Luigi Moretti is 
absolved from the imputed crime of high-treason, 
his innocence having been proved. 

His Imperial Royal Apostolic Majesty, to whom 
both the proceedings and sentences have been sub¬ 
mitted, by his most venerated sovereign resolution, 
of 17th December, 1823, and 8th of January, 1824, 
has allowed justice to take its course regarding the 
refractories—Pecchio, Vismara, De Meester, Man- 
tovani, Bossi, Arconati-Visconti, Pisani-Dossi, Filip¬ 
po Ugoni, and Arrivabene; and, on the contrary, has 
graciously deigned mercifully to remit to the con¬ 
demned Confalonieri, Andryane, Borsieri, Palla- 
vicini, Gaetano Castiglia, Tonelli, and Arese, the 
punishment of death, and to commute it into im¬ 
prisonment of carcere duro , to be expiated by all 
in the Portress of Spielberg ; in the case of Con¬ 
falonieri and Andryane, for life ; in that of Borsieri, 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


141 


Pallavicini, and Gaetano Castiglia, for twenty years; 
in that of Tonelli, for ten years; and in that of Arese 
for three years, in addition to the legal consequences 
of the condemnation to imprisonment, carcere duro. 

These supreme decisions, as well as these highly 
venerated sovereign resolutions, have been published 
in obedience to the most venerated Aulic decree of 
the High Lombardo-Venetian Senate, Supreme 
Court of Justice, of 27th December, 1823, Nos. 
3477, 264; and of 12th January, 1824, No. 12, 
communicated to the Special Commission by the 
honoured despatches of 20th December, 1823, 
Nos. 290 and 291, and 13th January, 1824, 
No. 8. 

Given at Milan by the Imperial Royal Special 
Commission, the 19th day of January, 1824. 

The Aulic Councillor, President , 
Della Porta, 

A. De Rosmini, Secretary. 

y. 

Austrian State Paper. 

Milan , January 22, 1824.'*' 

After thirty years of sanguinary wars and 
disastrous revolutions, which shook governments 

* The promulgation of the sentence pronounced against 
us was followed by the publication of this long article, 


142 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


to their foundations, and spread despair and deso¬ 
lation among the nations, Europe had scarcely 
began again to enjoy the fruits of peace, than per¬ 
verse enemies of public tranquillity employed every 
means in their power to arrest the triumph of the 
eternal principles of religion, morality, and social 
order, in defence of which all sovereigns and nations 
had generously united themselves. 

Those who, under the revolutionary govern¬ 
ments, had abandoned themselves to the dreams of 
an ambition which knew no bounds, falling with 
their governments and deceived in their hopes, 
increased the number of the discontented; and 
the secret societies, now the centres, now the in¬ 
struments of conspiracies of the most dangerous 
character, after having escaped the vigilance of 
those fallen Governments, of which they equally 
intended to prepare the destruction, began to 
spread, promoting seditious tendencies, which were 
soon afterwards to break out into open revolt. 

Lombardy was not exempt from the attempts 

which was reproduced in the Moniteur Frangciis, of 
January 30th, 1824. Although the straightforwardness of 
our acts and intentions is evident in this narrative, this 
article brings accusations against us of so grave a nature, 
that I have felt it to be a duty to refute them in two notes. 
— Author's Note. 



PAPERS AND NOTES. 


143 


of this factious party. A plot, instigated by a sect 
which had introduced itself a short time since in 
this country, was discovered towards the end of 
1814, and the plan of the sectarians frustrated by 
the activity of the Austrian Government. The 
principal authors of it (for on the subordinate actors 
the generosity of the Government would not ex¬ 
ercise the rigours of a prosecution) were already 
in the prisons of Mantua, awaiting the punishment 
of their felony.* But his Imperial Royal Apostolic 

* The famous physician Rasori, and Colonel Moretti, 
had been the companions of General De Meester in the 
political trials of 1814. They were imprisoned in the Gon- 
zaga’s Castle of Mantua, and Moretti was confined in the 
very room (No. 4) from which Orsini made his escape. 
In spite of the watchful eyes of the Austrian police, the 
prisoners succeeded in having frequent communication with 
their friends in the town, through the devotion of Captain 
Vismara, who had been Colonel Moretti’s orderly officer 
during the campaign of 1813. This man had recourse to a 
very curious means of getting on to the rampart of the 
dungeons occupied by his friends. He wrapped himself in 
a large bear-skin, and, thus clad, so perfectly imitated 
the movements of the beast, that, when the Austrian sentries 
got sight of him, they were terrified, and hardly dared to 
breathe. After a few nights, however, the officer on guard 
redoubled the sentries, and gave orders to fire at the bear. 
This was done; but, fortunately, Captain Vismara was not 
hit, though the lesson was such as to induce him to discon¬ 
tinue so perilous an exploit. 

The prisoners’ friends then had recourse to other means 


144 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


Majesty, tempering by bis clemency the sentence 
to which they had been condemned, gave them 
their life, and, after a short detention, allowed 
them to return to the bosom of their families. 

Whilst in 1814 this attempt of the spirit of 
faction was suppressed, new perils menaced the 
tranquillity of Italy and the whole of Europe in 
1815. Murat, from the kingdom of Naples, sent 
his armies all over the rest of Italy, and made use 
of Carbonarism, which up to this time had menaced 
his own throne, as an auxiliary to his ambitious 
designs. From that moment the baneful germ of 
this demagogue society* propagated itself in the 
different countries occupied by his troops; but soon 
victory declared itself for the Austrian flag. 

Political calm followed the commotions pro¬ 
duced by this passing meteor, and, although the 
efforts of this secret party to excite new agitation 

of communication. Books were allowed to be sent to Rasori 
and his companions. On the pages of these books, words were 
pricked with a pin, and thus news or advice was conveyed. 
It was in this ingenious manner that the intelligence of 
Napoleon’s escape from Elba and his entry into Paris reached 
the prisoners of Mantua.— Translator's Note. 

* It is, indeed, strange to describe as demagogues men 
belonging, for the greater part, to the nobility and well-to-do 
classes of Lombardy. Some of the persons thus designated 
are now senators, or occupy high positions in their country; 
and all belong to the Conservative party.— Translator's Note. 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


145 


were not unknown to the Legitimate Governments, 
they followed the impulse of their clemency and 
their generosity, in the hope that gratitude would 
bring back those misguided men to social order, 
which was every day becoming more consoli¬ 
dated. 

But in the midst of the profound quiet enjoyed 
by Europe, the voice of these dangerous men, who 
were not taught by experience, but endeavoured 
to spread ideas of revolt that they might raise 

... i * i f i 

themselves from the insignificance to which they 
are condemned, was again heard. Secret societies 
multiplied themselves under the shadow of mystery, 
and propagated more and more, drawing those into 

. i •»i 

their culpable projects in whose bosoms they in¬ 
stilled, little by little, the venom of their principles. 
The two secret societies which prevailed in Italy 
in 1816 were the Carbonari and the Adelfia. They 
both possessed democratic tendencies, proclaiming 
—the one, the institution of the Agrarian law; the 
other, regicide : they only differed in the rites which 
they adopted. 

The centre of the first was the kingdom of 
Naples ; of the second, France ; and, whilst these 
secret societies continued to make new proselytes, 
various other minor sects, under different names, 

L 


146 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


developed themselves, all tending to the overthrow 
of the monarchical thrones of Italy.* 

* I did not belong to the Carbon aria, nor to the Adelfia, 
nor to any of the many sects mentioned in this article. It 
would appear, therefore, that I ought not to take notice of 
the grave accusations brought against them. But some 
might not have faith in my assertion; besides, all the Italians 
who took part, either by action or by desire, in the events of 
1821, are bound one to another. I would say, therefore: 
“ You assert that Carbonarism proclaims the Agrarian 
law; that is to say, the equal partition of land amongst 
all the inhabitants of a country. In truth, you do great 
honour to Carbonarism. Many of those whom you count 
as such, in Lombardy at least, were rich proprietors; as, for 
instance, Count Porro, according to you, the founder of 
Carbonarism in this part of Italy. I, for example, possessed 
in the province of Mantua about 2,500 acres of land, of the 
value of 700,000 francs. This province contains about 
500,000 acres, and a population of 250,000 individuals; to 
each individual would, therefore, have fallen two acres, and 
I should have been dispossessed of 2,498. 

“ To say that, if I had been persuaded that such a sacrifice 
on my part would have permanently ameliorated the con¬ 
dition of the mass of the people, I would willingly have 
made it, would be a vain boast. I will say, therefore, a 
thing more credible, that such generosity never entered into 
my mind. You assert, besides, that the Carbonari and Adelfi 
Societies have a democratic tendency, and that the second 
proclaims regicide; but this implies contradiction with the 
accusation, which you made further on against the sectaries 
of Lombardy, of having determined to proclaim the Constitu¬ 
tion of Spain, and with what the Neapolitans did, who, though 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


147 


But the movements of these sectaries did not 
remain long a mystery to the vigilance of the 
Austrian Government. The guilty were arrested 
in the beginning of January 1819, brought before 
the tribunals, and judged. But .here also the 
clemency of his Majesty made itself heard, and the 
punishment of death, which the tribunals had pro¬ 
nounced against thirteen of the principal sectaries, 
was commuted to imprisonment, more or less long, 
according to the respective degrees of crime. 

In the meantime, the outbreak of the Revolution 
of Naples, in July 1820, made manifest the ex¬ 
istence and the character of Carbonarism. His 
Majesty drew the attention of his subjects to the 
evils of this sect, and, by the royal notification of 

masters of sovereign power, neither proclaimed the Agrarian 
law, nor, thanks to Heaven ! imbrued their hands in regal 
blood, but contented themselves with founding a constitutional 
monarchy. All parties have, amongst the mass, some reason¬ 
able men, and some madmen, who, on the eve of action, talk 
of strange iniquitous designs; but, as soon as the reality, the 
moment for action, arrives, either change their mind or are 
set aside. It is, therefore, probable that the Carbonari, the 
Adelfi, and the other minor sects, may have had in their 
bosom some of the above-named individuals ; but their opi¬ 
nions certainly did not prevail, and, judging from the facts, 
every impartial man must say that the object of these sects 
is not that which it is here asserted to be.”— Author’s Aote. 


148 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


the 29th August, 1820, warned the negligent as 
to the objects of the same, that, being instructed 
as to its true tendencies, and terrified by the 
punishment which awaited those connected with 
Carbonarism, they might repel and reveal the at¬ 
tempts of perverse seducers. 

But, at the same time, whilst the wisdom and 
paternal solicitude of the Emperor endeavoured to 
prevent crime by salutary admonition, in order not 
to be under the necessity of punishing it when 
committed, some persons in Milan formed, towards 
the end of August 1820, the project of diffusing 
Carbonarism throughout the entire kingdom, and 
of joining in its links the foreign sects, so as by this 
means to prepare the elements of a general revo¬ 
lution in Italy, of which the Revolution of Naples 
was to be, according to their plan, the prelude and 
the impulse. 

The Government, however, smothered this pro¬ 
ject in its birth, towards the beginning of October 
1820. The head of the conspiracy, Count Luigi 
Porro-Lamberterghi, escaped in the beginning of 
April 1821, and was afterwards condemned, as a 
refractory, to the merited punishment of death. 
With respect to his accomplices his Majesty, the 
most august Emperor and King, again listened to 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


149 


the voice of mercy, and substituted the punishment 
of temporary imprisonment for that of death, 
passed on them by the tribunals of the country. 

Whilst, however, the authorities were occupied 
in discovering the thread of these plots, the sectaries 
and factions of all Italy, animated by the issue of 
the Revolution of Naples, became still more united 
among themselves, and in the other Italian pro¬ 
vinces the turbulent spirit of these misguided pro¬ 
selytes was also to be found. 

The Adelfia, which, in 1818, assumed the title 
of “The Society of Sublime and Perfect Masters,” 
urged its adherents to increase the number of pro¬ 
selytes, to organise itself into subordinate centres, 
which usurped the names of Church and Synod, to 
bind themselves with the other sects wherever they 
existed, and to draw the threads, as much as pos¬ 
sible, into the hands of their chiefs, so as to unite 
them with the centre at Turin, and from there, by 
means of Geneva, with the supreme Committee, 
which denominated itself “ The Great Firmament.” 

It was in the north of Italy, chiefly, that this 
sect had insinuated itself, and that it had become, 
through the influence of the higher sectaries, who 
lived in Turin and Geneva, the instrument of the 
French supreme centre. This sect, which took 
particular consistence in Piedmont, penetrated also 


150 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


into Lombardy, and counted several Churches* in 

• , 

other Italian States, where it had been incor¬ 
porated with Carbonarism. 

Whilst the Carbonari in the Pontifical States, 
with their numberless subaltern societies, had ar¬ 
ranged, in August 1820, to stir up a revolution in the 
States of His Holiness, of which, in various meet¬ 
ings, they had matured the plans and the move¬ 
ments, the “ Sublime Perfect Masters,” according to 
the instructions which came to them direct from 
Turin, endeavoured to moderate their impatient 
ardour. It was their intention to make it burst 
out in open tumult at the moment when the Revo¬ 
lution of Piedmont, which they were preparing, 
should be successful, so that they might plunge all 
Italy into the horrors of a general combined re¬ 
volution. 

The Carbonari of the Romagna continued in 

O 

the meantime, through their emissaries, to bind 
themselves with the rebels of Naples, whilst the 
sectaries of Northern Italy hastened the develop¬ 
ment of the Piedmontese conspiracy. From the 
instant in which the plot had thus been organised, 
the inferior secret societies were multiplied with 

* It appears tliat, by the name of Churches , the minor 
centres of the Society were designated.— Translator's Note. 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


151 


greater activity, as they were to be the nucleus of 
the Militia and the National Guard, which, in the 
moment of insurrection, would have been esta¬ 
blished. 

Besides these different sects, the association of 
the “ Feelerati Iialiani v was then formed. It was 
destined to take the lead of the Revolution of 
Piedmont, to prepare that of Milan, and to spread 
itself successively throughout Italy, in union with 
the foreign confederates, on whose co-operation 
they counted. 

The elements of a general revolution being thus 
prepared, the sectaries of every State set to work 
to provide their satellites with arms and munitions 
of war, and to draw up plans of the Government 
which, at the moment of the revolt, should take 
upon itself supreme authority, in order to proclaim 
the new political institutions which were to assume 
the place of the old. 

A foreign insurrectionary centre recommended, 
in January 1821, that the Revolutionary Militia 
should not be organised until the Austrian army 
had marched to the Neapolitan frontier; whence, 
with a combined movement throughout the whole 
of the Italian Peninsula, they would surround the 
troops of his Majesty, and proclaim the triumph 
of revolution and disorder, under the name of 


152 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


“Italian Liberty.” The basis of this conspiracy 
had already been assented to by the conspirators 
of several countries of Italy. Italy was to be 
divided by the Po, and held, by a constitution 
similar to that of Spain, in a federal union. 

The Lombard conspirators, in February 1821, 
concerted the plan of a Provisional Government, 
divided into five sections. In their meetings they 
selected the persons who were to form the Govern¬ 
ment. The supreme authority was to take into 
its hands the powers of sovereignty. Its first act 
would have been that of ordering a general arma¬ 
ment to support the revolutionary cause, and of 
calling to arms, by preference, those who had 
already seen military service, whilst in various 
other ways it would have occupied itself, above all, 
in promoting the fanaticism of rebellion. The 
chief conspirators also drew up the plan of a 
National Guard, and designated the individuals 
who were to command and direct it. 

The epoch chosen for a general movement was 
that of the invasion of the Piedmontese troops. 
In two columns, these were to march upon the 
States of Italy: the first was to penetrate into 
Lombardy, where the activity of the plotters would 
have assisted it; the second, into the States of 
Parma and of Modena, to attempt to seduce the 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


153 


Papal troops in Bologna, to proclaim everywhere 
the Constitution of Spain, and to swell its ranks 
with those factions whom the activity of the 
sects and the popular ferment would increase at 
the tidings of the first success. The conspirators 
imagined that the Austrian army, occupied in its 
front by the Neapolitan troops, harassed in the 
rear by the troops of their auxiliaries, and placed 
in a country all aflame with revolutionary incen¬ 
diarism, would be surrounded and annihilated. 

The revolution broke out in Alessandria on the 
10th of March; 1821; it was supported by the 
seditious movements which took place in Turin on 
the 13th. 

Prom that moment, the agents of the revolt 
directed all their efforts to bringing the whole army 
under the banner of crime and rebellion, and to 
increasing it by new levies, so as to accomplish the 
long-projected invasion of Parma and Lombardy. 

The Lombard and foreign subjects who, before 
and at the moment of the breaking out of the 
revolt, had gone to Piedmont to hasten it, now 
urged the Sardinian army, by promises of reward, 
and under pretence of ample co-operation in the 
country, to cross the frontier. 

They wanted the revolutionary army to antici¬ 
pate the arrival of those troops which the Austrian 


154 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


Government, aware of the designs of the rebels, 
had caused to assemble on the frontiers of Lom¬ 
bardy, to repulse the audacity of a sudden inva¬ 
sion. 

Lombardy being in the proximity of the con¬ 
flagration, and the activity of the conspirators, 
long acquainted with the secret of the plot, having 
there prepared the elements of the revolt, was the 
first to feel the effects of the shock. Some young 
men, lost and seduced, abandoned their peaceful 
studies and their occupations to go into the neigh¬ 
bouring kingdom, where the demagogues soon 
threw them into the ranks of the rebels. The 
tribunals justly sentenced these imprudent young 
men to the punishment of death ; but here again 
his Majesty, out of regard to their youth and their 
inexperience, commuted the punishment into a 
detention of brief duration. 

The central conspirators of Milan were in the 
meantime occupied in taking the most advantageous 
measures for giving a decided movement to the 
ferment which their satellites everywhere promoted. 

On the 15th of March, the entry of the revo¬ 
lutionists into Novara was known. Those Lom¬ 
bards who had gone to Piedmont, to hasten the 
invasion of the rebel troops, announced to their 
correspondents in Milan the imminence of this 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


155 


event, and begged them to co-operate actively in 
the success of the common enterprise. 

On this announcement, the project was formed 
of causing a popular tumult in Milan, to facilitate 
the projected invasion. At the same time, a letter 
was sent to the conspirators of Brescia, to recom¬ 
mend them to excite revolt in that province. They 
gave them their instructions on the disarming of 
the garrison, on the surprise of the fortresses of 
Peschiera and the Rocca d’Aufo, and also on the 
seizure of the public money: whilst with one 
hand they hastened the rising of some Lombard 
provinces, they sent out with the other messengers 
and letters to press the invasion. But the army 
which, in the meantime, had assembled on‘the fron¬ 
tiers of Piedmont, under the orders of Lieutenant- 
General Marshal Count di Bubna, placed an in¬ 
surmountable barrier to the intended invasion. 

On its side, the civil authority kept watch in 
silence over the proceedings of those on whom fell 
the suspicion of being implicated in this extended 
conspiracy. It held in its hand the principal 
threads, and, having assured itself of public opinion, 
which it knew in general to be good in Lombardy, 
and opposed to every revolution, it took its mea¬ 
sures calmly, and in this crisis scarcely made its 
action felt. It is well to give here a more precise 


156 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 




delineation of the part taken by individuals in the 
general attempt. Among the acts by which the 
Count Federigo Confalonieri made himself guilty 
of the crime of high treason, will be comprised the 
most essential of those which occasioned the con¬ 
demnation of the conspirators who were subordi¬ 
nate to him. The crimes of Alessandro Andryane, 
being strictly personal, will form a separate article. 


Part taken by Count Federigo Confalonieri, 
of Milan, in this Conspiracy. 

The Count Federigo Confalonieri had already, 
under the last Government, distinguished himself by 
a spirit of hostile opposition. At the epoch of the 
overthrow .of the kingdom of Italy, he remained 
no stranger to the revolutionary movements which 
the democratic party fomented in Milan, and of 
which the Minister of Finance, Prina, was a victim. 

At this epoch, the public voice was raised against 
him, and he was designated as having been the 
principal promoter of Prina’s death. After this, 
Count Confalonieri, having gone abroad, did not 
fail to profit by his travels, and to open a new and 
vaster field to his ambition. Conformity of opinions 
caused him to form friendships with persons in Paris 




PAPERS AND NOTES. 


4 


157 

and London most famous for modern Liberalism; 
and with these new relations he came finally to 
Milan, after about a year’s absence, which he had 
passed in France and England. His return to 
Milan, where the remembrance of the assassination 
of Prina had not yet died away, roused against 
Confalonieri the hatred of the opposite party, 
which induced him to publish abroad a pamphlet, 
in which he did not limit himself to repelling the 
charge of having taken part in this assassination,* 

* There are still living in England many persons who 
became acquainted with Count Confalonieri while he was 
in London, and I am confident they will share the opinion 
of the Translator of this book, that so honest and honour¬ 
able a man could not have professed the abominable prin¬ 
ciples the Austrian Government of that time attributed to 
him. 

To show the reader what a noble-minded man Confalo¬ 
nieri was, I think proper to quote the following lines of 
Andryane: — 

“ About a month after the news of my father’s death, 
Confalonieri received, after many years of expectation 
and uneasiness, not a long answer, but a sign of life 
from his friends. This proof of their constant devotion 
I should have passed over silently, like many other acts 
of generosity, of which I was the witness, and often the 
object, if my conscience did not urge me to testify to 
the noble self-abnegation of him who has a claim to my 
eternal gratitude. Although there would be no harm in 
entering into minute details, I shall limit myself to stating 
that the keeper, to whom old Schiller had confided our 


158 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


but professed publicly the political sentiments which 
he had embraced. In this he proclaimed the opi- 

secrets, found means to say to us one evening, through 
the little opening of the wicket, 4 A man is here at Briinn,* 
the bearer of a letter which he has given me: I have 
brought it you. He is ready to favour your flight. I 
myself am disposed to make the attempt, and have pre¬ 
pared everything to execute your escape to-morrow after¬ 
noon. Give me, therefore, your answer in the morning.’ 

44 Who can describe our agitation at this unexpected 
announcement ? Confalonieri hastened to read the letter, 
which contained only these words: 4 Chosen among your 
exiled friends to assist in your project of flight, I have 
arrived at Briinn, provided with passports and a good 
carriage. I shall await the favourable moment; mean¬ 
while prepare yourself. I have brought with me the 
necessary disguise, a hat, frock-coat, &c. I shall confide 
them to-morrow to the keeper. Reckon on me as on yourself.’ 

44 4 Well, what say you to this? ’ asked my friend. 

44 4 That we should both fall on our knees and thank 
God for so great a favour. This unexpected means of flight 
must be seized instantly and without hesitation. Think of 
your Theresa-’ 

“ 4 You well know that she is my constant thought, the 
only tie that attaches me to life. One of my dearest friends 
informs me that her health is seriously affected, and that 
my presence alone can relieve her.’ 

44 4 Well, then, attempt fearlessly this escape, which will 
at once save your incomparable wife and yourself; for, 
there is no doubt, my dear friend, that so long as the 

* The fortress Spielberg is just above the town of 
Briinn.— Translator's Note. 












PAPERS AND NOTES. 


159 


nions which afterwards induced him to support the 
party of independence, and boasted “ that he was 

Emperor lives, you will languish in Spielberg, and wil 
perhaps finish your days here.’ 

“ * I am well aware of that,’ he replied. 

“‘And,’ I impatiently exclaimed, ‘you do not exult in 
the idea that, in twenty-four hours, you may be freed from 
this frightful destiny ? I see no sign of joy on your face 
— you are gloomy. What are you thinking of?’ 

“ ‘ This letter speaks of one only; and to leave you 
here-’ 

“ ‘ What matters it? Am I in the same position as you? 
Have I an adorable wife, whose existence depends on my 
deliverance ?’ 

“ ‘ For pity’s sake, say no more !’ returned Confalonieri: 
‘let me reflect — I will call you presently.” And, saying 
these words, he retired to his cell, requesting me to go to bed. 

“ ‘ Do not forget,’ I added, ‘ that early to-morrow 
morning you must reply. I will consider everything that 
may be necessary to your flight, although we have already 
so many times calculated all the chances. How fortunate 
that you have only one leg chained ! He who serves us is 
clever and enterprising; I feel certain that you will suc¬ 
ceed. Frederick, I entreat you, let the thought of Theresa 
alone be present to you.’ 

“Notwithstanding the desire I felt at such a moment 
to move about in my dungeon, I seated myself on my 
pallet, that Confalonieri’s reflections might not be disturbed. 
The evening wore on, the night became dark; the rain fell 
in torrents, and the wind, driving through the narrow 
embrasure of the window, shook the frame so violently, 
that I expected every moment it would be dashed to pieces. 
‘ I hope that my poor friend will not have such frightful 



160 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


not, and never would be, bound to circumstances 
and to Governments.” 

weather to-morrow,’ said I to myself; 4 yet the roads will 
be bad, the cold intense, the fatigue overpowering; and he 
so weak, too! Will he be able to support all these hard¬ 
ships ? I trust so; the prospect of again seeing his beloved 
Theresa will revive his strength.’ 

44 The wind continued to blow, and when, every quarter 
of an hour, the long-resounding cries of the sentinels were 
mingled with it, I shuddered involuntarily at the idea of 
the obstacles which that watchfulness opposed to every pro¬ 
ject of escape. Meanwhile I had heard eleven, twelve, then 
one o’clock strike, and Confalonieri had not called me — 
not moved. I began to apprehend that he had fallen asleep, 
or that, too weak to endure his emotions, he had been seized 
by one of those long fainting-fits which had alarmed me so 
much during my journey from Milan to Spielberg. Trem¬ 
bling at this idea, I was about to go to him, when his voice 
reached my ear. In less than a second I was by his side, 
and asked anxiously, 4 What have you resolved?’ 

44 4 To remain at Spielberg.’ 

44 4 1 cannot believe it,’ I cried: 4 it is impossible ! ’ 

44 4 1 will not abandon my companions to their sad fate; I 
cannot leave you alone, exposed to the displeasure of the 
Emperor; my conscience and honour forbid me. Had I 
been able to take you with me, as I hoped to do, I should 
not have hesitated a moment, for friendship and duty would 
have alike urged me; but, rather than escape alone, I prefer 
to remain here. I will never profit by any good fortune 
that may injure my fellow-captives.’ 

44 4 But do you not fulfil a more sacred duty,’ I asked, 
4 in risking all to rejoin your unhappy Theresa ? You will, 
perhaps, never have another opportunity: think of this. I 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


161 


The Liberal party soon recognised in Count 
Confalonieri its chief support, and the consideration 
he enjoyed in this class could not but flatter power- 

beseech you on my knees to come to a more sensible resolu¬ 
tion. The sacrifice you are willing to make will be of no 
service to any of us. On the contrary, there is no doubt 
that the Emperor will hasten the period of our deliverance 
when you are no longer in Spielberg. In the name of 
friendship, do not add to my miseries the wretchedness of 
knowing that we have been the cause of your voluntarily 
condemning yourself to perpetual imprisonment.’ 

“I entreated him thus for some time, invoking the names 
of those dearest to him; but I could not induce him to alter 
his determination. He merely said, ‘ Enough, enough ! I 
must not desert my post: I would rather die than run the risk 
of aggravating the fate of those left behind. Such is my 
will: it is as stubborn as my duty.’ 

“I endeavoured to insist still further; but he interrupted 
me by exclaiming, ‘ In the name of Heaven, spare me ! Do 
not force me to reconsider what is irrevocably decided: I 
have too painfully felt during the past hours how torturing 
such indecision is, to expose myself to it again. Pray leave 
me, Alexander—I wish to be alone.’ 

“ Then he pressed me to his heart, and we remained some 
time speechless in each other’s arms, but feeling that our 
souls were more than ever fraternally united. 

“ Next day, Confalonieri made known to the friend 
who had braved all kinds of dangers to rescue him, that 
he could not set out; and thus, with noble self-devotion, 
in the obscurity of a dungeon in which he was likely to 
terminate his life, he accomplished the greatest sacrifice 
that a man of honour could make to his companions in 
misfortune.”— Translator's Note. 


M 


162 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


fully his self-love, and that ambition which seemed 
in him to be the predominating passion. His 
house became more and more the centre of the 
most declared partizans of revolution; and, by , 
seducing the public spirit, and endeavouring to 
influence the instruction of the young, he sought 
to diffuse in his country opinions which, in 
taking root, would alienate the minds of sub¬ 
jects from the Government. 

In November 1820, some of the Piedmontese 
conspirators caused one of his friends to invite him 
to go to Vigevano, to confer with one of their noted 
emissaries, to hear from him their intentions, and 
to render himself their active agent in Lombardy. 
Confalonieri lent himself to this invitation, and con¬ 
tinued to advance in the spirit of revolution. 

On returning to Milan, and always keeping his 
eyes on the aspect which things were taking at 
Naples, Confalonieri went, in December 1820, to 
Florence, for the purpose apparently of fulfilling a 
duty of old friendship. There he was soon joined 
by two friends, one of them Giuseppe Pecchio, now 
condemned to .death for rebellion. The relations 
which he contracted on this journey with several 
persons of the Liberal party procured for him the 
most ample acquaintance with the efforts which the 
secret societies were everywhere making, princi- 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


168 


pally in order to hasten the outbreak of a general 
revolutionary movement in Italy, of which the 
march of the Austrian army against the rebels of 
Naples was to be the first signal. 

In the meantime, the Liberals of France came, 
early in January, recommended to the conspirators 
of Piedmont, to avail themselves principally of the * 
co-operation of Confalonieri, who received in con¬ 
sequence, during this month, an invitation to go 
to Turin; but, being detained by a malady which 
did not permit his undertaking a journey, and 
being desirous, besides, of covering himself with 
the veil of another, he sent Pecchio, his most con¬ 
fidential friend, to Turin, in order that he should 
examine the state of things on the spot, and make 
him fi report. 

Pecchio fulfilled his mission, and, after a brief 
sojourn in Turin, where he assisted at several meet¬ 
ings, and acquainted himself with the windings of 
the plot, he gave to Count Confalonieri an exact 
account of what he had seen and done, tie let 
him know that all parties would unite in favour of 
the Spanish Constitution ; that the secret societies 
continued to propagate in the Sardinian States as 
well as in Lombardy; that they were in correspon¬ 
dence with the sects of the other States of Italy; 
and that at a fixed period the troops would rise 


164 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


in Piedmont, and would force the King to adopt 
the Constitution of the Cortes; that the case of 
his refusal had been foreseen, but that measures 
had been taken to meet it; that, as soon as the 
revolution had been effected, a large body of troops 
would be sent into Lombardy; and that, upon a 
similar revolution succeeding there, the Austrian 
provinces of Italy would form with Piedmont a new 
independent State, governed by the Spanish statute, 
under the name of Northern Italy. 

Pecchio acquainted Confalonieri with the means 
which were at the disposal of the conspirators, and 
presented him the statutes of the “ Federati Ita- 
liani ” and one printed in Latin, which the conspi¬ 
rators spread amongst the Hungarian troops, to 
seduce them. Prom this moment, Confalonieri 
made himself the superior centre of the Lombard 
conspiracy, and no one grudged him the position, 
which, indeed, the party gave him. 

The principal and most active conspirators sur¬ 
rounded him assiduously, and conferrred with him 
on the plans of the operations to be undertaken in 
Lombardy. Nothing of importance was meditated 
or undertaken in which he had not a part. 

On the 16th February, 1821, Filippo Ugoni, 
one of those condemned to death for rebellion, was 
called to Milan. He obtained from Confalonieri a 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


165 


payment of 4000/., to employ in securing the 
assistance of two individuals, one of whom was 
destined by the Milanese conspirators to play an 
important part in the insurrection of the capital; 
and it has been proved that one of them went to 
Milan on the 13th of March. 

An active Piedmontese emissary came direct to 
Confalonieri, in February 1821, to receive in¬ 
structions from him as to the co-operation which 
was expected of his accomplices, and of which they 
wished to be well assured before joining an enter¬ 
prise, the permanent success whereof presupposed 
the contemporaneous insurrection of all it. pro¬ 
vinces of Italy. In this same month of February, 
the factions of Parma sent one of their sectaries to 
him, to receive necessary instructions. 

The activity and bravery of the Governor- 
General of Lombardy appeared to the conspirators 
to be an obstacle to the execution of their designs; 
they considered how they could get rid of him, and 
Confalonieri took part in the plot. # 

* I declare before God and before men that my mind 
never entertained so cruel a thought; and I have reasons to 
believe that it never entered into that of any one of my 
friends .—Note of the Author. 

When Count Confalonieri arrived at Vienna, on his 
way to Spielberg, he was visited by Prince Metternich at 
the police-office. I append the narration of the interview, as 


166 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


Towards the 10th of March, 1821, Pecchio was 
sent to Piedmont, furnished with money, which 

related by the Count himself to Andryane. It will be 
seen how he protested against the abominable calumny, in¬ 
serted in the Act of Accusation, of having plotted against the 
life of General Bubna, the Austrian Commander-General in 
Lombardy.— Translator's Note. 

“I will not dwell upon the sadness and dejection into 
which I fell after our separation at Villach. In losing my 
companions, it seemed to me that the last thread that held 
me to life was broken, and that there was nothing between 
Heaven and me but the struggles of death and the tomb. 
My sufferings increased, and my dissolution seemed so near 
at hand-gthat my-guards hesitated some time before they 
conveyedme from the inn at which you left me to a house 
belonging to the Government. There I was placed under 
the care of a brave Captain of Infantry, who setting an 
example of humanity to his men, they all vied with one 
another in showing kindness and attention to the poor pri¬ 
soner. These proofs of interest went to my heart ; they 
were so spontaneous, so unexpected, that I was affected to 
tears. To them I owe the first and only moments of respite 
and tranquillity that I have enjoyed since my arrest. When 
my fever was subdued, the worthy Captain, seeking every 
means by which to relieve the dulness of my prison, brought 
me all the Italian and French books, I believe, that were to 
be had in the town; and the satisfaction that arises from a 
good action was painted on his honest countenance every 
time he came to me with a fresh stock. Imagining that I 
must desire to learn what was passing in Italy, he lent me 
the Gazetta di Milano , the only foreign newspaper per¬ 
mitted at Villach; but it was at my reiterated request 
alone that he showed me the Number containing the Act of 



PAPERS AND NOTES. 


167 


was to promote the progress of the Revolution. 
The Marchese Benigno Bossi, now condemned to 

Accusation against us, together with our sentences. ‘Read,’ 
said he, ‘if you think it may be useful to your health; it is 
only on this account that I have yielded to your entreaties.’ 

“ I was scarcely convalescent when a Chief Commissary 
of Police, sent expressly by the Minister, came to conduct 
me to Vienna. He told me that my departure depended 
entirely on the state of my health, and that it was for me to 
fix the day and the hour. I answered that I was ready; 
and the next morning, after having thanked my good 
Captain and his men again and again, I set out in an excel¬ 
lent posting-carriage. Thanks to the kind attentions of the 
Commissary, I did not suffer much from this rapid journey, 
different in every respect from the slow and fatiguing march 
of our convoy. In two days we were in Vienna, where they 
made me alight at the Chief Office of Police. ‘Your lodg¬ 
ing is rather high up,’ said the Commissary, assisting me 
to ascend the stairs; ‘but I hope you will be satisfied 
with it.’ 

“ Four high stories were certainly very fatiguing to my 
feeble and chained legs; but with time and assistance I at 
last surmounted them. The apartment was tolerable, nay, 
too elegant for one who a few days later was to inhabit a 
dungeon. I made this remark smilingly to my guide. ‘Who 
knows,’ replied he, ‘what may happen ? Perhaps you may 
soon be still better lodged, and more fortunate.’ He then 
took leave of me, to give an account of his mission to the 
Minister of Police. 

“ It was not difficult to understand the meaning of these 
last words, notwithstanding their ambiguity. The end of 
my being conducted to Vienna, which I had before guessed, 
was explained: they wished to subject me to a last trial, of 


168 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


death for rebellion, was also drawn into this con¬ 
spiracy, and presented himself at Confalonieri’s 
bedside, to receive instructions before leaving. 

which the only result for me must be perpetual captivity. 
Towards evening, the Director-General of Police came to 
inform me that next day I should see his Superior. The 
following morning, Count Sedlenitzky was introduced ; his 
visit was short, and seemed a sort of preparation to that of 
a great personage, whom he vaguely announced, but left me 
to guess his name. 

“It would, perhaps, have been more prudent to have re¬ 
fused to see Prince Metternich, in order not to alienate still 
further the mind of the Emperor; but I was resolved to 
speak to him, and to protest warmly against one infamous 
assertion in the Act of Accusation,—an assertion which as¬ 
sailed my honour, and which I owed it to myself to repel 
with indignation. I therefore declared to the Minister of 
Police that I awaited his commands. I expected impa¬ 
tiently, I confess, this interview with the statesman whose 
influence over the destinies of Italy was so powerful. 

“The morning passed without his appearing, and the 
day was drawing to a close, when a noise of doors and hur¬ 
ried steps made me aware that the counsellor of kings was 
approaching. On seeing him enter I arose, bowed, and 
attempted to stand; but he graciously made me a sign to be 
seated. ‘Y r ou live very high up, Count,’ said he, drawing 
near the sofa, on which he took a place by my side : ‘ per¬ 
mit me to take breath before I inquire after your health.’ 

“We remained some seconds in silence; he then re¬ 
sumed : 

“ ‘I see that you are better than when at Villacli, and I 
rejoice at it. If the melancholy state in which you were at 
Milan had been known at Vienna, you would not have been 



PAPERS AND NOTES. 


169 


These two emissaries, during all the time pre¬ 
ceding the outbreak, kept up with Confalonieri a 
constant correspondence, which Pecchio communi- 

exposed to the hardships of so fatiguing a journey ; but I 
now congratulate myself on a circumstance to which I owe the 
pleasure, perhaps, of seeing you, and that also of being in some 
degree useful to you,’ he continued, with an expression of 
interest. ‘The rigorous treatment which you have under¬ 
gone, Count, cannot fail to afflict those who, like myself, 
know to what a hopeless cause you have sacrificed yourself; 
and, believe me, it has grieved his Majesty to be obliged to 
suppress his habitual clemency. Unfortunately the proceed¬ 
ings against you existed, the law had judged, and the fu¬ 
ture tranquillity of Italy demanded examples; not that we 
henceforward have anything to fear, but it was necessary that 
justice should take its course, and that public opinion should 
be satisfied. You have done for your party all that it was 
possible for a man to do; you have served it to the last mo¬ 
ment with devotion, although you must have doubted the 
success of your enterprise. What was then only conjecture 
has now become certainty, not only in the case of the Penin¬ 
sula, but in that of all Europe. The two contending prin¬ 
ciples have come to a trial of strength, and everywhere the 
result has justified our expectations. A few energetic mea¬ 
sures on the part of the Great Powers of Europe have suf¬ 
ficed to show that revolutionary ideas cannot maintain a 
struggle in the hearts of the people against Legitimacy. In 
this state of things, you will easily perceive that we attach 
small importance to learning more in detail all that has 
passed in the different parts of Italy before and after the 
Revolutions of Naples and Piedmont. If, then, I now seek 
information from you, Count, it is absolutely only in an 
historical point of view, and,’ he hastened to add, ‘with a 

t 


170 


AN EPOCH OP MY LTPE. 


cated to him, that he might thereby direct the 
operations in Milan. 

The news of the Revolution in Piedmont having 

due regard to your interest, and to that of your companions 
in captivity. Elis Majesty, doubtless, would not fail to be 
grateful for any confidential information which you alone 
can supply.’ 

“‘Your Highness gives me too much importance,’ I re¬ 
plied, bowing respectfully; ‘and to satisfy you, it would be 
necessary-’ 

“ ‘ That you should merely appeal to your memory,’ in¬ 
terrupted the Prince. 

“ ‘ Alas! I find there only the sorrows of my own 
heart; the rest is entirely effaced. Will your Highness 
allow me to make one protestation,’ I continued, to give 
another turn to the conversation, — ‘a protestation which 
concerns in the highest degree that which is most precious 
to me on earth — my honour?’ 

“A slight sign indicated that I might proceed. 

“ ‘I have read, with profound grief, in the Act of Accu¬ 
sation, that I permitted a plot to be matured against the 
life of General Bubna, and that I consented to his assas¬ 
sination. This is an abominable calumny, against which 
I protest emphatically, and with the more reason, as the 
result of the examinations proves that I indignantly opposed 
the plan of attacking the General, if the dreams of two or 
three harebrained youths may be called plans. Let Salvotti 
paint me in the blackest colours — let him make me out to 
be a dangerous conspirator, an obstinate culprit, deserving 
the most infamous punishment — T shall bow my head and 
submit to what I cannot prevent; but that he should lower 
me in the opinion of every one, by accusing me of having 
attempted the life of a man whom X esteem, and of whose 

I 



PAPERS AND NOTES. 


171 


excited hopes that there would be a popular rising 
in the capital of Lombardy, Confalonieri did not 
delay occupying himself with it, together with the 

friendship I am proud, is what I cannot endure without la¬ 
menting that I am prevented from publicly protesting against 
such an odious and cowardly act of vengeance.* 

“ The Prince, who had listened attentively, replied, 
‘This is certainly a serious inexactness; but, believe me, no 
one will have been deceived by it. The conduct of General 
Bubna towards you, the proofs of attachment which he has 
constantly shown you since you were a prisoner, are more 
than sufficient to disprove that rash assertion.* 

“His Highness, returning to the subject of the historical 
information, which he hoped to obtain from me, immedi¬ 
ately said, ‘Perhaps you might place greater confidence in 
one whose rank is higher than mine. I should not be 
jealous,’said he, smiling ; ‘and, if you authorise me, Ido not 
doubt but the august personage will himself come to hear 
what you may have to say, and to change your destiny and 
that of your friends.* 

“I o-ave the Prince to understand that it would be use- 
less; upon which he took leave of me, expressing his regret 
at not having been able, in spite of his wishes, to work out 
in my behalf the favourable and paternal intentions of his 
Majesty. 

“My refusal to see the Emperor necessarily shortened my 
sojourn at Vienna. The next day I set out for Briinn, ac¬ 
companied by the same Commissary, whose conduct towards 
me was throughout marked by the greatest kindness. In a 
few hours I reached the place of my destination. When I 
heard the gates of Spielberg close behind me, I bade adieu 
to everything that could offer consolation to my heart: little 
did I think or hope to find that of friendship.” 


172 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


ex-General Muster, now condemned to death for 
rebellion, one of the guilty whom his Majesty 
pardoned at the time of the conspiracy of Mantua. 

At the very time in which this rising was 
meditated in Milan, an incendiary letter was ad¬ 
dressed from that city to Filippo Ugoni, at Brescia, 
inviting the Brescian conspirators to rise also. 
Filippo Ugoni recognised no other superior than 
Confalonieri. The meeting convened upon the 
arrival of this letter in Brescia, on the 17th of 
March, had scarcely dispersed when Ugoni started 
for Milan, where, having travelled all night, he 
arrived on the morning of the 18th, and at the side 
of Confalonieri’s bed asked for the instructions 
which his companions, who took the title of “ Fe¬ 
deral Italiani,” required before answering the 
invitation that had been addressed to them. 
Many prisoners have confessed to having been 
affiliated to this conspiracy by Confalonieri, and 
encouraged by him to favour with their co-opera¬ 
tion, and, if necessary, with money, the develop¬ 
ment of the plot, in the secret of which they had 
been initiated. 

Filippo Ugoni, being called to Milan, ap¬ 
peared there about the 14th of February, with his 
friend Tonelli, now condemned. Together, they 
went at night to Confalonieri’s room. Confalonieri 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


173 


there disclosed to them the plan of the con¬ 
spiracy, magnifying the means, and greatly praising 
the effects, of that Italian Confederation which he 
announced to them as already organised in Milan. 
Here Confalonieri read to them the plan of the 
organisation, exhorting them warmly to propagate 
it also in their country, and giving them several 
instructions as to the most advantageous mode 
of succeeding, and as to the persons upon whom 
they were to exercise their propagandism. 

Nor did he limit himself to this; he also oc¬ 
cupied himself very actively in the formation of a 
National Guard—an armed force which should be 
capable of hastening and sustaining the invasion of 
the rebel Piedmontese. The nominal organisation 
of this Guard was complete : the Commandant, the 
Quartermaster-General, four Colonels, four Majors, 
several heads of battalions, Captains and officers, 
were appointed, and they had thought of means of 
obtaining the necessary arms. And, as it was im¬ 
portant that this Guard should be brought into 
activity, even before the invasion of the rebel troops, 
in order to be able to second them, they attempted, 
but vainly, to deceive the authorities themselves, by 
endeavouring to make them see the need of such a 
Guard, under the pretext of the maintenance of 


174 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


order. Confalonieri tried, by means of confidential 
persons, to cause the choice of the chiefs and 
officers to fall on those individuals who had been 
designated in the private conferences of the con¬ 
spirators, and who already belonged to the Con¬ 
federation. The conspirators also felt the necessity, 
at the moment of the expected Piedmontese in¬ 
vasion, of instituting a Provisional Government, in 
which supreme authority should be vested, and 
from which, as from a supreme centre, should 
emanate the orders which were to conduce to 
the success of the meditated insurrection. 

In a conference held towards the beginning of 
March, 1821, which Confalonieri, on account of 
illness, could not attend, the first basis of this pro¬ 
ject was discussed with him, and matured by his 
very bed-side. 

. It was arranged that the tribunal of Milan 
should be auxiliary to that which, at the mo¬ 
ment of the Revolution of Piedmont breaking 
out, would be sitting in Turin; that Pecchio 
should be charged to repair to that city, as a 
point of union for communication between the 
two juntas. The organic form of this supreme 
body was determined upon. It was to be divided 
into seven sections. There was the section of 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


175 


Foreign Affairs, of the Interior, of War, of Justice 
and Legislation, of Finances, of Public Security, 
and of Worship. The chiefs of sections were pro¬ 
posed and designated, as well as the secretaries of 
orders and of correspondence. 

The Presidency was, without opposition, assigned 
to Confalonieri. The moment in which he was 
to usurp the sovereign power would be that of the 
invasion of the enemy, and he was to occupy him¬ 
self with the most advantageous means of drawing 
the whole population into the interests of the revo¬ 
lutionary cause. 

But, as the course of events was too slow for the 
desires of Confalonieri, he arranged with Pallavicini, 
now condemned, who had been, before affiliated to 
the Confederation, that he should go to Piedmont, to 
hasten the movements of the rebels, and the invasion 
of Lombardy. Pallavicini went to the Sardinian 
States, accompanied by Gaetano Castilia, another 
of the condemned, and both redoubled their efforts 
according to their instructions. It did not escape 
Confalonieri that a premature incursion made with 
insufficient forces would only cause the failure of the 
plans of the conspirators; besides, such an incur¬ 
sion would encounter a powerful resistance in the 
Austrian troops, which were then being concentrated. 
Consequently, he wrote to the General of the Pied- 


176 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


montese rebels, advising him to risk nothing, and, 
above all, not to occupy Lombardy with too weak 
a military force; but, assuring him at the same 
time that, if the Piedmontese army should come 
there in great force, it would be well received, and 
could rely on all the resources of the city and 
of the country. Whilst the respective authorities 
were watching attentively the proceedings of Con- 
falonieri, he did not cease sending his news to the 
Brescian colony, and occupying himself incessantly 
with those projects of political change which the 
Italian refugees formed in Geneva and Lausanne. 
The contact into which he came with some foreign 
travellers, after the Revolutions of Naples and Pied¬ 
mont had been suppressed, and the letters of some 
of his emigrant friends, acquainted him with a new 
series of plots that were being formed in Switzer¬ 
land, by means of which the French faction sought 
to create in Lombardy partial disturbances, which 
later would burst out in revolt. The authors of 
these letters endeavoured to make Confalonieri 
share their hope that these would bring about a 
better future. He received, in October 1821, a 
letter from Giuseppe Vismara, a condemned re¬ 
fractory, in which he exhorted him to second the 
efforts which the authors of the new conspiracy 
were making to take up again the threads of the 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


177 


former one, and assure the triumph of the revo¬ 
lutionary cause at a more favourable moment. Two 
or three davs before his arrest, from which he 
endeavoured to save himself by flight, an unknown 
hand addressed to him, on the 13th December, 
1821, some mysterious communications, which he 
was charged to consign to a foreign emissary, to 
whom they would serve as introductions to some of 
the most notorious French Liberals. This man, 
perverted to the depths of his heart, and most 
dangerous by his extensive relations—this man, 
who, exercising a bad influence over all who ap¬ 
proached him, involved so many persons in his 
dark intrigues, drove so many individuals to crime, 
brought affliction into so many families, and was 
so near causing the ruin of his country—far from 
showing any repentance during the course of the 
trial, manifested an unconquerable obstinacy in his 
crime, which was, with a species of vainglory, fully 
confessed by him. 

Crime oe Alessandro Andryane. 
Alessandro Filippo Andryane, of Paris, served 
in the “Hundred Days” as aide-de-camp to General 
Merlin, his brother-in-law. Legitimate order being 
again established in the kingdom of France, he 
re-entered private life. 

N 




178 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


At the end of 1819, being under a decree of 
arrest for debt, he left Paris, and came to reside at 
Geneva. Here he came in contact, and formed 
an intimate friendship, with the Tuscan refugee, 
Buonarotti, known for his revolutionary genius, 
who instructed him in the Italian language, and in 
music.* After a sojourn in Geneva and its neigh¬ 
bourhood of three years, interrupted only by a 
secret journey, which he made every year to Paris, 
Andryane formed the design to go into Italy. In 
the month of September, 1822, and before carrying 
his design into effect, he went clandestinely to 
Paris, where he remained concealed from the 
authorities for a month. Returning afterwards to 

* “ At the period when I was thus full of enthusiasm 
for the sacred cause of liberty and its sincere defenders, I 
became acquainted with one of its most devoted champions, 
Michael Angelo Buonarotti. He was a venerable Republican, 
who had passed through a long life of adversity and perse¬ 
cution with the greatest firmness and integrity of character, 
and >vas now earning an honourable and independent liveli¬ 
hood at Geneva, by giving instruction in music and Italian. 
From this modern Procida, whose life had been a continual 
sacrifice to his political convictions, I learned what great 
designs a single individual, however humble his situation, 
may perform by a strong will and an unchangeable perseve¬ 
rance in one object. By endeavouring to imitate his self- 
denial, his disinterestedness, and his constancy, I succeeded 
in raising myself by degrees above the factitious wants of 
society, and thought myself highly honoured when he pro- 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


179 


Geneva and to Lausanne, he advanced towards Italv 

«/ 

in December, 1822, and arrived at Milan at the 
end of the month. 

posed to receive me into a numerous association of patriots, 
labouring to secure the triumph of political and religious 
liberty all over the world. 

“ Though far from sharing his ultra-democratic opinions, 
I fell completely under his influence ; whether from being 
overcome by the natural ascendancy of his character, or 
that the mystery with which he surrounded himself, by 
appealing to my imagination, gave him in my eyes extraor¬ 
dinary and superior attributes, which made me view him 
almost as the genius of liberty. I attended meetings, at 
which the most important political questions were pro¬ 
foundly discussed, and where measures were adopted for 
extending throughout Europe the ramifications of a society 
of which we formed the centre, and to which a great number 
of remarkable persons belonged. 

“During the first months of 1822 , I was charged with 
several missions to France, on which great hopes were 
founded ; but they all proved fruitless. The various parties 
opposed to the Bourbons had been so disorganised and dis¬ 
united by their recent failures at Befort, Saumur, Rochelle, 
and other places, that it was impossible to direct and con¬ 
centrate their efforts on one common object. Under this 
conviction, I determined to occupy myself no more with the 
affairs of France, especially as I had perceived that, in spite 
of the retrograde march of her government, public opinion 
had made sufficient progress to enable her to reconquer her 
liberties without having recourse to arms. 

“ I had confidence in the future destinies of France ; for 
amidst the old Republicans, Imperialists, and Constitutional¬ 
ists, amidst the intrigues and agitation of secret societies, I 


180 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


The notice which the Government received of the 
criminal proceedings of the revolutionists living in 
Switzerland, and the relations which this very An- 

had seen arise a new generation, patriotic, reflecting, and 
devoted, preparing by study and meditation to gain for their 
country the liberties and institutions which a recourse to 
conspiracy and arms had failed to obtain. Approving of 
the moderation and good sense of this party, I resolved for 
the future to shun the plots which were still rife in France : 
and, to avoid all temptation to the contrary, I determined to 
pass a year or two in Italy, and devote myself to literature 
and the arts. 

“Buonarotti, being informed of my project, proposed to 
charge me with a secret mission to that country, which I 
joyfully accepted. To labour for the independence of Italy, 
and the vindication of her liberties, was in my eyes a noble 
and holy vocation — the more so from my having, during my 
residence at Geneva, formed an acquaintance with several 
Italian exiles, who had engaged my sympathies in their 
cause. All my thoughts were now turned to this enter¬ 
prise, to which my heart no less than my imagination 
prompted me. I had long conferences with Buonarotti and 
several other Italians, and received from them the necessary 
instructions, and the names of many distinguished indivi¬ 
duals, who were either already connected with the secret 
societies, or persons whom it was desirable to enlist. They 
promised to'announce my arrival by letter to these persons. 
On the mission itself we were perfectly agreed : we differed 
only about a great variety of statutes, diplomas, and ciphers, 
with which Buonarotti was desirous of intrusting me, but 
which I refused to carry, as being useless and dangerous. I 
was obliged, however, to yield to his solicitations, and to force 
these papers into a large writing-case, together with numer- 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


181 * 


dryane had held with some of them during his so¬ 
journ in Geneva, drew upon him the attention of 
the authorities, and ultimately led to an inves¬ 
tigation of his papers.* These, taken from the 

ous letters of introduction, among which was one from Buo- 
narotti to his brother, at Florence. The only precaution 
that was taken concerning them consisted in arranging that 
I should not be the bearer of these documents in passing the 
frontier of Italy, but that one of our friends should bring 
them to me at the first town of Piedmont or Lombardy at 
which I should stop.”— Andryane. 

* Andryane himself thus narrates this unhappy episode 
of his life :— 

“ When I awoke, on the 18 th of January, it was late,— 
later than it appeared by the light, for it snowed, and the 
weather was wintry and gloomy. I eagerly spread out the 
map of Italy on my bed. I found out Florence and Naples. 
I thought of the delightful days I should pass there; of the 
happy hours which the pursuits of literature had in store 
for me ; of the rambles and excursions I should make in 
Tuscany, the Papal States, Sicily, and Calabria. 

“ A clock in the neighbourhood struck nine: the person 
who was to come for the papers might be expected every 
moment: I therefore hurriedly drew the parcel from its 
hiding-place, and put it under one of the cushions of my 
sofa, ready to my hand when my friend came. The door¬ 
bell rang. ‘ ’Tis he! ’ said I to myself. I opened the 
door, but the person was unknown to me; it was a servant 
who had come from a gentleman, his master, to ask me if I 
should be at home at noon. Shortly afterwards, the bell was 
rung again. 6 If this be not he,’ thought I, ‘ surely it must 
be Lablache, my portly Lablaclie, with his rich voice and his 


182 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


place in which he had concealed them, made him 
clearly known as an emissary of that dangerous 

hearty merriment/ No, it was no Lablache, but a gentleman 
in a brown coat, of a sinister and cadaverous visage, followed 
by several gendarmes. I shuddered ; a thought struck me 
like a thunderbolt,—‘It is all over with me ! ’—a moment 
of intense agony, which, however, I mastered sufficiently to 
assume a polite and unconcerned air, and ask the personage 
in the brown coat to what I owed the honour of his visit. 

“ ‘ Excuse me,’ he replied; ‘ I am sent by the Custom 
House to search whether you have not contraband goods in 
your possession.’ 

“ ‘ I am not a merchant: the Custom House ought to be 
aware of that.’ 

“ ‘I trust you will pardon me, but it is my duty;’ and, 
so saying, he and his myrmidons entered my room. 

‘•A thought, q glimmer of safety, shot through my mind. 
The fire was blazing in the grate : to throw my papers into 
it whilst I confused these pretended Custom House officers 
by engaging them in a scuffle, was worth attempting. I 
rapidly took two or three steps toward the sofa; but I 
found I had to do with a man who was no novice in this 
sort of expedition. Two of his alguazils had immediately 
stationed themselves in front of the fire-place. I should, 
however, have proceeded in my design, relying on my own 
strength, but that it occurred to me the papers were in¬ 
closed in the cursed leather case, and would not, therefore, 
immediately catch fire. My situation was desperate, my 
means of escape none. If I had had arms, I should cer¬ 
tainly have made an attempt, however hazardous; but I 
had nothing but a cane. 

“ Taken by surprise, I was obliged to conceal my feel¬ 
ings and put on a good face while the agents of the police 


PAPERS AND NOTES, 


183 


sect which, under the title of “Sublime Perfect 
Masters f took an active part in preparing the 

examined one by one tlie drawers of my wardrobe and 
desk. All my movements, my very looks, were strictly 
watched by the eye of their leader, who expected, perhaps, 
by these means to gain a hint as to where the objects of 
search were concealed, or perhaps feared that in some 
way or other I should spirit them away. To put off the 
evil moment for a time, I drew near them as they examined 
the papers of my desk; I even joked with them on some 
passages in my travelling journal, out of which I read 
several sentences to the head-officer, such as the letter of 
Buonarotti, of which it seems he could not decipher the 
writing. But all these feints served little to lead the 
Signor Conte Bolza off the scent: he was an old blood¬ 
hound of the Police, and well versed in the art and 
mystery of arrests. 

“ A last resource struck me. I would try and gain pos¬ 
session of the writing-case, hurl it on to the roofs of the 
neighbouring houses, then covered with snow, and, profiting 
by the surprise of my visitors, throw myself out into the 
street. It was a desperate measure, which would have 
availed me nothing, and which the next moment rendered 
impracticable. Several of the police had already arrived 
in the course of their search at the sofa, towards which, as 
if by instinct, the Commissary Bolza all at once advanced. 
The first cushion he lifted discovered the case; he eagerly 
clutched it, and held it up. A mortal chill ran through my 
veins;—I felt that my fate was about to be decided. 

“Transported with his lucky seizure, of which he already 
suspected the importance, Bolza, fixing his cold and serpent¬ 
like eyes upon me, began to open the case. I strongly 
protested against this, and required him on his responsibility 


184 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


Revolution of Piedmont, and submerging all the 
rest of Italy in the horrors of a general insurrec¬ 
tion. 

to inclose it in an envelope and place a seal upon it immedi¬ 
ately. 6 Take me,’ I said to him, ‘ take me before the 
Director-General of Police: he alone should examine these 
papers.’ To this he acceded, and carefully sealed the 
packet in my presence, his gendarmes still continuing a 
minute search throughout the chamber. 

“ The evil was without remedy ; and I now had only to 
brace myself for whatever might happen, and bear it with 
becoming fortitude. With this view, I preserved an air of 
perfect assurance and politeness towards the agents of the 
Police, which prevented their losing for an instant the 
respect due to me. Without the least appearance of un¬ 
easiness, and with as much tranquillity as if I were going 
to call on an intimate friend, I left my room with Bolza, 
who loaded me with marks of deference and respect. The 
staircase, the court, the door, at which a coach was in 
waiting, were all guarded by soldiers, placed ready to 
prevent any attempt at escape. 

“‘I had taken every precaution, you see,’ said the 
prudent Commissary, with a self-satisfied air : ‘ I knew 
with whom I had to deal; and, to tell the truth, I would 
not have undertaken your arrest if they had not given me a 
strong force.’ 

“ 4 1 see you understand your business,’ I answered. 

“ In a few minutes we arrived at the head-office of the 
Police, where, under a good escort and guarded by Bolza, I 
was introduced into the cabinet of the Director without 
delay. The sealed case was handed over to him. He took 
it, tore off the envelope, opened it, and, having turned over 
the papers, begged me to be seated ; then, desiring Bolza to 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


135 


These writings showed how “ the Great Firma¬ 
ment” placing his hopes in the Spanish Revolution, 
still entertained, in the last months of 1822 , the 

examine its contents and make a list of them, he sat down 
again to his desk, and continued his employment. 

“ The silence which prevailed in the room, only broken 
by the rustling of the parchments as the Commissary drew 
them from the case, and the scratching of the pen of the 
Director as he wrote, left me entirely to myself, and I 
began more clearly to see the abyss into which I had fallen. 
No chance of saving myself occurred to my mind. I am in 
the power of the Austrians; I am lost—I see it—I feel it! 
These were my only thoughts. Tired of this anxious state 
of suspense, I asked leave of the Director of Police to take 
a book from his library, a request which he accorded very 
graciously. I opened the book, and turned over the pages ; 
I even read several of them mechanically, though I found it 
vain to attempt to interest my mind in the subject; and my 
eyes kept wandering every now and then to catch a furtive 
glance of what was going on around. 

“ Sometimes a glimmer of hope enlivened my spirits, and 
I said to myself, ‘After all, what have I done to warrant 
my arrest ? They can only send me with a good escort to 
the frontier.’ Already I had traversed the Alps, I had 
gained Switzerland, I was at Geneva,—a momentary illu¬ 
sion which the Director of Police very soon dispelled, by 
requesting that I would myself draw up, and check with 
Bolza a list of the papers in the case: not a word, not 
a gesture, however, betrayed his intentions towards me. 
Polite, though reserved, he had the manners of a man of 
the world, who feels, and never forgets, that no circum¬ 
stances give us a right to be less attentive or less civil to 
one whom misfortunes have stricken. I really felt grateful 


186 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIFE. 


idea of tying anew the threads of the scheme which 
the political events of Naples and of Piedmont had 
broken; and now, in Geneva, under his auspices, a 
centre of active co-operation was formed, which far¬ 
thered his revolutionary designs against the tran¬ 
quillity of Italy. Andryane, affiliated by Buona- 
rotti to this sect, with the superior grade of “Sublime 


to him; and, after his telling me that he was sorry it was 
his duty to place me in confinement, and before my leaving 
the room, I stopped and thanked him for his attention and 
politeness. Had his manners been rough and overbearing, 
I should certainly have felt the horror of my situation much 
more keenly. 

“ On being conducted into another chamber, they un¬ 
dressed me from head to foot,—the first operation of my 
gaoler, and the first of the long series of annoyances which 
were continued to the last moment of my captivity. After 
undergoing the scrutiny of this talented personage, who 
was so little satisfied at finding nothing, that he was almost 
ready to peer under my eyelids for concealed despatches, 
they conducted me into a lower apartment, where I found 
Bolza, who immediately led me to the prisons of the Police. 
To reach them, it was necessary to pass through a large 
kitchen, where two or three cooks in white jackets were 
busied, as my guide informed me, in preparing dinner for 
the numerous prisoners of the Commission. ‘You see his 
Majesty takes care that you should live well here,’ added 
he, pointing out the shelves furnished with pans ; ‘ and, 
moreover, we have here the first cook of Milan, the famous 
Cisalpino: you will find yourself very well off.’ 

“ ‘ Really,’ said I, looking at the dainty morsels hung 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


187 


Meet ” received the charge of propagating the 
reforms in Italy which had been newly introduced; 
of extending there as much as possible the rami¬ 
fications of the Society; and of instituting new 
Churches and new Synods, which, joining them¬ 
selves to the centre at Geneva, would receive from 
thence their instructions. 


around, ‘ I did not know the Emperor treated his prisoners 
so well. , 

“ ‘When a man has on a stone jacket, what has he better 
to amuse himself with than eating ? ’ cried a burly man, 
with a horse-laugh, whom Bolza introduced to me as the 
head-gaoler. 

“ ‘You will not find it very comfortable to-day,’ said the 

Commissary ; ‘ but in a day or two-Is all ready ? ’ he 

asked hastily of a turnkey who came up at the moment. 

“ 1 Yes, sir.’ 

“ ‘ Then let us be gone,’ I said; and he led me into the 
same building where Silvio Pellico had been confined three 
years before: but its female inmates had been removed; 
and their chambers, changed into prisons, were now occu¬ 
pied by the unfortunate patriots whom the Commission had 
torn from the bosom of their families. 

“ Passing through alow and dark corridor, which looked 
out upon a small court surrounded by a high wall, the gaoler 
opened a little door studded with iron, on which my eyes 
had been from the first presagingly fixed. 

“ ‘ May I trouble you to enter ? ’ said Bolza. I entered: 
the door closed behind me with a hollow sound. May God 
recompense, some day or other, the intense anguish which 
fell upon my heart at that moment! ”— Translator 1 s Note. 



188 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


Andryane then learnt that a conspiracy had 
been formed in Geneva, under the name of 
“ The Italian Congress/ 5 which occupied itself 
with measures for exciting new changes in Italy, 
and of which he was to second the plans. 

Better to accomplish the mission which was 
destined for him, he was raised to the high grade 
of Deacon Extraordinary (Diacono Straorclinario). 
Burnished with the patent of the “ Great Firma¬ 
ment, 55 and with all the necessary papers, he left 
Geneva and Lausanne towards the 1st of Decem¬ 
ber, 1822. In Bellinzona, he conferred with a 
refugee Piedmontese sectary,^ according to the 

* Here are the details of the interview, as related by 
Andryane himself: — 

“ In accordance with the instructions I had received 
from Buonarotti, I saw at Bellinzona some Italian refugees, 
one of the most active of whom, forewarned of my arrival, 
had been especially charged to make arrangements with me 
to forward the success of my mission. He was a man on 
whose zeal I could depend; but, unfortunately, he had 
neither the judgment nor the experience requisite to give 
me the advice and information I wanted. Little versed in 
European politics, Malinverni regarded nothing but the 
independence of Italy, and saw but one means of attaining 
it—secret societies. Having witnessed the results which 
the plots of the Carbonari had produced in his country, he 
had no other end or hope than the reorganisation of that 
society throughout the Peninsula. He therefore received 
me with joy, praised my devotion, encouraged my projects, 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


189 


instructions received from Buonarotti, and con¬ 
sulted with him on the method of the correspon- 

and assured me of success, extolling the patriotism of his 
countrymen. 

“ The praises which he lavished upon me, the faith which 
he had in the destinies of his country, and the confidence with 
which he dispelled all my doubts, disposed me more and 
more to the immediate execution of an undertaking, which 
had often appeared to me not sufficiently matured. 4 What 
are you afraid of?’ said he; ‘are you not announced? are 
you not expected ? No sooner will you give your name 
than you will be received with confidence. The affair will 
proceed as if by magic. Would that I were in your place ! 
How easy and noble is the task which the protecting genius 
of enslaved nations has reserved for you ! ’ 

44 4 Would it not be prudent, at least,’ said I, ‘ to leave 
behind me the diplomas and regulations of secret societies, 
which would expose me to continual dangers, and would not 
fail to cause my ruin, if they happened to be seized upon my 
person ? ’ 

“ 4 Consider, my dear friend, they are your creden¬ 
tials.’ 

“ £ That may be true of the letters of introduction; but 
as to the other papers-’ 

“ 4 They are an essential concomitant. How can you 
expect that any one will take your word without them ? 
Trust to my experience; men, in Italy especially, must be 
initiated by secrets and mysteries, in order to be convinced 
that we are in earnest. We must satisfy them that they 
will acquire importance by joining a society which will 
appear the more powerful from its being hid from their 
sight.’ 

“ 4 All that may be true; yet I cannot help feeling some 



190 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


dence which he was to keep up with him from Milan, 
and the other countries of Italy, where he would 
have to stop; and, having procured recommenda¬ 
tions from another Piedmontese refugee at Lugano 

uneasiness at taking charge of such dangerous proofs 
of-’ , j / > 

“ 4 You know you will not have them upon your person 
when you pass the frontier. They shall be carried to 
Milan, or anywhere else, by one of our men ; but it is 
indispensable that you should have them with you, for 
without them you will do nothing with my countrymen, I 
assure you.’ 

“ ‘ Be it so, then: I consent to take them; but on the 
condition that you wait for a letter from me before you send 
them. You will allow that I could not use them on my 
first arrival without committing the greatest imprudence.’ 

“ 6 Look here,’ said Malinverni, pointing to a young 
man who had just entered the room; ‘ this youth shall be 
my messenger to you. He is a fine fellow, upon whom you 
may rely; and his peculiar position well qualifies him for 
the office.’ 

“ Having settled this point, we proceeded to make ar¬ 
rangements for our correspondence, places of meeting, trust¬ 
worthy agents, and similar things. The interview was 
prolonged during the whole of the 24th, and was attended 
successively by several of the refugees, who all joined in 
deploring the fate of Italy. Her chains had just been riveted 
at the Congress of Verona, and Austria threatened to drive 
the exiles themselves from their refuge, where they had still 
the consolation of hearing their native tongue, and being 
within a few miles of the frontiers' of their country.”— 
Translator’s Note. 



PAPERS AND NOTES. 


191 


for some Austrian subjects, he proceeded to Milan, 
where his operations were to commence. Andryane 
did not fail, as soon as he arrived, to notify his 
address to his correspondent of Bellinzona, from 
whom he expected other papers, that they might 
be safely remitted to him. 

In his quality of Diacono Straordinario , he 
knew that the only and ultimate aim which the 
sect proposed to itself was the destruction of re¬ 
ligion and of all monarchies, the assassination of 
sovereigns, and the establishing of a democratic 
Republic. 

To form a just idea of the perversity of this 
impious sect, it suffices to know that it proscribed 
all revealed religion, that it made a duty of regicide, 
that the sectaries admitted to the first rank were 
obliged to renounce the religion professed by them, 
and that those admitted to the second grade were 
forced to strike with a dagger the symbols of 
royalty.* 

* The Austrian official writer was no doubt instructed 
to make the formula of the oath taken by the Carbonari 
seem still more dreadful and fantastic than it really was. 
He did not, perhaps, anticipate that one day the original 
document would be found in Romagna. This, however, 
was the case; and I am now able to translate it from the 
remarkable work on the events of Italy published by the 
Marquis Gualterio in 1850. The high character of the 


192 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


The Maestro Sublime, ossia Muratore Perfetto — 
Sublime Master, or Perfect Mason—is obliged to 
take an oath, under pain of death, that he will con¬ 
secrate to the propagation of the sect all his powers, 

author, and the position he holds in his country (being a 
Senator of the Italian kingdom, and Governor of Perugia), 
leave no doubt that the oath here appended is the one really 
taken by the followers of Carbonarism when they entered 
the sect: — 

“ I, a free citizen of Ausonia, reunited under the same 
Government and the same popular laws which I devote 
myself to establish, even should it cost me my blood, swear, 
in presence of the Grand Master of the Universe and of the 
Grand Elect, my good cousins, to employ all the moments 
of my existence to obtain the triumph of the principles of 
liberty, of equality, of hatred of tyranny, which is the spirit 
of all the secret and public actions of the respectable Car- 
bonaria. I promise to propagate the love of equality in all 
minds in which it will be possible for me to re-establish the 
regime of liberty, ‘without fighting , and to do so until death. 

“ I consent, should I have the misfortune to become false 
to my oaths, to be sacrificed by my good cousins, the Grand 
Elect, in the most painful manner. I offer myself to be 
crucified in the depths of a grotto, or in a chamber of horror, 
naked, crowned with thorns, and in the same manner as was 
our good cousin Christ, our Redeemer and our model. I 
consent, further, that my bosom shall be torn open whilst I 
am alive ; that my heart and bowels shall be taken out and 
roasted; that my limbs shall be cut off and scattered, and 
that burial shall be denied to my body.” 

Here follow the principal articles (fifty-eight in number) 
of the social and constitutional pact of the Ausonia, which is 
communicated to the new Grand Elect.— Translator's Note. 



PAPERS AND NOTES. 


193 


physical, intellectual, and pecuniary, — and 
punctually and blindly obey his superiors. 

In the degree of the Sublime Elect, four feasts 
were celebrated, which answered to the most dis¬ 
astrous epochs of the French Revolution, of which 
this sect desired everywhere to renew the sanguinary 
spectacle, and amongst which was that in which 
Louis XVI. fell under the axe of impiety and 
crime. Indispensable, above all, was it declared to 
be to the Sublime Elect to infuse a profound hatred 
against princes and the Holy See. They were, 
consequently, to irritate bitterly the people against 
the higher classes, and against the Pontiff. On 
the day of the popular movement, “ they were to 
allow the momentary triumph of the mob. They 
might plunder, and dye themselves with patrician 
and sacerdotal blood, in order that, once com¬ 
promised, they might not be able to withdraw from 
the precipice.” In conclusion, they made known 
“that constitutional monarchy formed the object 
of their desires only in appearance, but that in 
reality it was a means of facilitating the total 
destruction of every system of monarchy.” 

This was the sect which Andryane, having be¬ 
come a proselyte at Geneva, assumed the charge 
of propagating through the whole of Italy, co- 


o 


194 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


operating at the same time with the views of the 
“ Italian Congress,” which, since March 1822, had 
been instituted in that city under the auspices of 
the “ Great Firmament,” who approved of it, and 
under the direction of the Diacono Mobile Buona- 
rotti. 

Andryane came to Italy furnished with the 
means of facilitating the execution of the charge he 
had assumed. Several letters were given to him 
for various places he was to go through; he re¬ 
ceived some from Paris, and others from Switzer¬ 
land, and all from persons who had taken an 
active part in the conspiracies of 1821. Besides 
this, the names of several were given him by 
Buonarotti—foreigners as well as Lombards—as 
being persons to whom he might with security 
explain his projects. 

Andryane’s operations were to commence in 
Lombardy. He had letters for Milan, for Brescia, 
and for Pavia. The search made in the meantime 
had led to the discovery of the names inscribed on 
the list written for Andryane: these men were 
seized ; and the others had not been able to hide 
themselves from the knowledge of the authorities. 

Andryane profited by his residence in Milan to 
/nake the personal acquaintance of some of those 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


195 


who were marked on his papers.* He presented 
to one person the letter which was to serve as the 

* “In the evening, on my return home from the Opera, 
I found that a gentleman had been long waiting for me in my 
apartment. It was the young Italian who had undertaken 
to bring me the papers I had left with Malinverni. I asked 
him whether Malinverni had not received the letter in which 
I had requested him not to send them. Pie answered that he 
knew nothing of that letter ; that he had undertaken to de¬ 
liver the papers safely into my hands, and had now come to 
fulfil his promise. What could I do ? To decline relieving 
him of a dangerous trust was an idea which I could not en¬ 
tertain for a single moment; not to thank him for the risks 
he had run in order to keep his word, would be a want of 
manners and of feeling. I therefore took the papers with 
many thanks, without daring to tell him that I would make 
no use of them ; a false shame, such as we often feel in the 
course of our life, and which proved my ruin. 

“If I had acquainted him with the cause of my change of 
mind, he might, perhaps, have consented to the destruction of 
these dangerous documents; and his approbation, no doubt, 
would have sufficed to determine me to burn them. I was 
only deterred from executing this after his departure#)y the 
fear of appearing faint-hearted, or of displeasing Buonarotti. 
Staggered by these and other similar considerations, in 
which self-love was predominant, I withheld my hand at the 
moment of committing the fatal papers to the flames, re¬ 
solving to avoid every reproach, and to discharge my respon¬ 
sibility, by depositing them in the hands of a trustworthy 
friend. 

“I now opened the case, and took a rapid survey of its 
contents, some of which I burned, as likely to compromise 
the persons I had seen, or whom I still intended to see. Then 


196 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIEE. 


means of assuring himself of his thoughts, and en¬ 
deavoured to draw him to his views. Another 
person, with whom he bound himself intimately, 
fled on the news of his arrest. The activity of the 
authorities surprised him there in the commence¬ 
ment of his operations; and for the wicked career 
which he wished to pursue, and of which he con¬ 
fessed himself guilty, he has been condemned to 
the punishment due to such enormities. 

Yesterday was published the unanimous sen¬ 
tence pronounced by the special Commission of 
First and Second Instance, and by the Senate sitting 
at Verona (Chamber of the Supreme Tribunal of 
Justice), upon a great number of persons implicated 
in this conspiracy, and notably on the above- 
named Andryane, as one of the most marked 
emissaries of those pernicious foreign sects lately 
arrested. 

I again placed the whole in a cover, with the intention 
of going the next morning to beg my friend to take it under 
his charge. I went to him very early, after, however, taking 
the precaution of hiding the packet; but by a sad fatality 
my friend had gone into the country the evening before, 
and was only expected home in the afternoon. After vainly 
calling many times at his residence, I at last met him 
towards the evening, and he promised that he would not 
fail to come for the papers at nine or ten o’clock the follow¬ 
ing day.”— Andryane. 



PAPERS AND NOTES. 


197 


Nine of the fugitive conspirators, cited, accord¬ 
ing to law, by means of the prescribed Edicts, 
have been condemned to death for refractoriness. 
The sentence of death, pronounced against seven 
of the prisoners, has been, by the mercy of 
the sovereign, commuted to corporal punishment. 
With regard to Confalonieri and Andryane, punish¬ 
ment of death has been commuted to that of im¬ 
prisonment for life: the other five will be imprisoned 
for a greater or less duration. Those amongst the 
accused on whose guilt a doubt could be cast 
were, for want of legal proofs, set at liberty. 

If the Sovereign has been moved to mitigate 
the just rigour of the laws, and to soften the sen¬ 
tences pronounced against the convicted criminals, 
without excepting those who were the most de¬ 
serving of punishment, it is, above all, from the 
consciousness of his own force, and of the solidity 
of the State. 

Such being the fidelity of the people—a fidelity 
demonstrated, in the most formal manner, in the 
very places which the conspiracy had chosen as the 
focus of its operations—this guilty enterprise could 
but turn to the confusion and ruin of its authors. 
With such guarantees, the tranquillity of the State 
is assured from every danger. 


3 98 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIFE. 


ROSSETTI’S SONG. 

LA COSTITUZIONE IN NAPOLI 
NEL 1820 . 

I. 

Bell’ alba & questa ! Ah, di quel di beato 
La vivissima imago in me ridesta, 

Quand’ io da lieto popolo accerchiato 
Sclamai nel patrio suol — bell’alba e questa !— 
Ma che ! mentr’ io rivivo nel passato, 

Come, o gioiosa idea, ti fai funesta ! 

Tu fai ch’ io sclami, mentre al cuor mi giungi, 
—Ape di mel nutrita, alii, come pungi !— 

II. 

E pur mi siete care, 

O rimembranze amare ! 

Quando per voi rinasco 
In giovanil baldanza, 

Quando per voi mi pasco 
D’ italica speranza, 

Allor mi siete care, 

0 rimembranze amare ! 

III. 

Biondeggia luglio : fervida canicula 
Le spiglie indora fluttuanti e spesse, 

E lussureggia d’ abbondanza sicula 

L’ anglica m&sse. 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


199 




E te di luglio nono di santifico, 

Ond’ ebbe Italia memorando esempio : 
Umile stanza d’ eremo pacifico, 

Cangiati in tempio ! 
Un cor dolente che alia patria e dedito 
Di rado batte che sia pari al mio, 

E quanto d’ essa sospirando io medito 

Scriver desio. 

Su queste carte la pih viva imagine 
Di que’ bei giorni consecrar mi piace : 

E tu rispetta queste poche pagine, 

0 tempo edace ! 

IV. 

Ah, fra 1’ aure mattutine 
Che rallegran la natura, 

L’alma mia divien piu pura ! 

Parmi aver d’ intorno al crine 
II decoro — dell’ alloro 
Che m’ ornava in verde eta ! 

E quell’ epoca augurale 
Tal mi sorge nella mente, 

Che il passato e gia presente. 
Fantasia che impenni 1’ ale, 

Fa ch’ io torni — ai lieti giorni 
Della patria liberta ! 

Gia Partenope riveggo : 

Gia la terra dell’ esiglio 
E sparita dal mio ciglio. 

Ecco, e notte ; ed io mi seggo 
Sul Sebeto — che piu lieto 
Mormorando al mar sen va. 

Un gigante la s’ accinge 
A disegno ardimentoso ; 


200 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


Mentre il rumina pensoso, 

Ei non dorme e pur lo finge : 

Tal mi pare—in riva al mare 
La vastissima citta. 

y. 

Quand’ ecco fra le tenebre tranquille 
Un plauso suona del Tirren sul lido, 

E mille labbra e mille 
Prorompono in un grido : 

Ai voti del suo popolo 
Cede spontaneo il re. 

E quel gigante die dormir fingea 
Balza dal letto e per le vie festeggia. 

La reggia io pria temea, 

Or corro inver la reggia ; 

La scorgo, e mi commovono 
Riconoscenza e f&. 

VI. 

O memorando di! Mi sforzo invano 
Ritrarti all’ avvenir, di memorando ! 

Il popol tutto, man battendo a mano, 

Il palagio real va circondando. 

—Viva Fernando !—odo gridar lontano, 
Odo gridar vicin—Viva Fernando !— 

E parmi in tutta la gioiosa riva 
—Viva Fernando—udir—Fernando viva 

VII. 

E per desio spontaneo, 

Le accorse intorno a me genti adunate 
• Con moto consentaneo, 

Quasi fosser crescenti onde affollate. 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


201 


D’ un grido simultaneo 
Mi ripetean—Tu taci, o patrio vate ?— 
Yivo ardor subitaneo 
'J'utte in me ridesto le fiamme usate : 

E in estro estemporaneo, 

Con dato intercalar, con rime date, 

Alla memoria 
Di quel gran di 
Canto di gloria 
Sciogliea cosi. 

VIII. 

Di sacro genio arcano 
A1 soffio animatore, 

Divampa il cliiuso ardore 
Di patria carita : 

E fulge omai nell’ arme 
La gioventu raccolta. 

Non sogno questa volta, 

Non sogno liberta! 

Dalle nolane mura 
La libera coorte 
Gridando—A Monteforte ! — 
Alza il vessillo e va: 

La cittadina tromba 
Lieta squillar s’ ascolta. 

Non sogno questa volta, 

Non sogno liberta! 

Fin dal fecondo Liri 
All* Erice fiorito 
Quel generoso invito 
Piil vivo ognor si fa: 

E degli eroi la schiera 
Sempre divien pill folta. 


202 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIFE. 


Non sogno questa volta, 

Non sogno liberta! 

Si turba il re sul trono 
A1 grido cittadino, 

Ch& teme in sul destino 
Di sua posterita: 

Ma di ragione un raggio 
Ogni sua nebbia ha sciolta. 
Non sogno questa volta, 

Non sogno liberta! 

Di clie temer potea 
In mezzo ai figli suoi ? 

Un popolo d’ eroi 
Omai 1’ accerchiera; 

Ne piu vedrassi intorno 
Turba fallace e stolta. 

Non sogno questa volta, 

Non sogno liberta! 

Difenderem ne’suoi 
I nostri dritti istessi; 

Finch& non siamo oppressi 
Offeso ei non sara. 

Ogni oste a noi nemica 
Qui restera sepolta. 

Non sogno questa volta, 

Non sogno liberta! 

Giungesti alfin, giungesti, 
O sospirato giorno! 

Tutto ci brilla intorno 
Di nuova ilarita: 

Redenzion di patria 
In ogni fronte e scolta. 

Non sogno questa volta, 
Non sogno liberta 1 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


203 


La rediviva gloria 
Per ogni via passeggia, 

E torn a nella reggia 
L’ espulsa verita: 

La mascherata fraude 
Fra le sue trame e colta. 
Non sogno questa volta, 
Non sogno liberta! 

Gia coronata & 1’ opra: 
Patria, ringrazia il nume. 
O qual ti cinge un lume 
Di nuova raaesta! 

' Chi fia clie piu ti dica 
Barbara terra incolta ? 
Non sogni questa volta, 
Non sogni liberta! 


IX. 

Come s’ ode un frastuono in gran foresta 
Che a piu venti si scuota in giogo alpino, 
Tal d’ applausi crescenti una tempesta 
II fremito affogo del mar vicino. 

La confusa io chinai fronte modesta. 

Ma gia spuntava in ciel fausto il mattino, 
Ed oh qual vista offerse al guardo mio! 
Tutti piangean di gioia, e piansi anch’io. 

X. 

Vidi in pih guise esprimere 
Un sentimento solo: 

Questi fra lor s’ abbracciano, 

Quei van gridando a stuolo: 

Altri la reggia baciano, 

E bacian altri il suolo. 


204 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


Chi gode per la patria, 

Chi benedice il re. 

La gioia fa che il popolo 
Ogni opera abbandoni: 

Liete ghirlande infiorano 
Le porte ed i balconi, 

E per tre giorni durano 
I canti i balli i suoni: 

Discorde in tanto giubilo 
No che un sol uom non v’ e. 

XI. 

Non si mostrava ancora 
Del quarto giorno 1* aspettata aurora, 

E risplendea con pompa trionfale 
Per mille faci la citta reale. 

E il re la notte istessa, 

Quasi a santificar la sua promessa, 

Ponea la man (ne gli tremava il core ?) 
Sopra i santi Evangeli del Signore. 

XII. 

E di porpora e d’ or risorge adorno 
Del fumante Yesevo in sulla balza 
Del secol nostro il piu fulgente giorno 
Che la citta saluta e 1* ombre incalza. 

Fra le voci che suonano d’intorno, 

Cui per mill’echi V Appennin rimbalza, 

Mi volgo all’ alba, in petto il nume accolgo, 
Il popol mi fa cerchio e il canto io sciolgo. 

XIII. 

Sei pur bella cogli astri sul crine 
Che scintillan quai vivi zaffiri, 

E pur dolce quel fiato che spiri, 
Poroorina foriera del di. 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


205 


Col sorriso del pago desio 
Tu ci annunzi dal balzo vicino 
Che d’ Italia nell’ almo giardino 
II servaggio per sempre fini. 

II rampollo d’ Enrico e di Carlo, 

Ei ch’ ad ambo cotanto somiglia, 

Oggi estese la propria famiglia, 

E non servi ma figli bramo. 

Volontario distese la mano 
Sul volume de’ patti segnati ; 

E il volume de’ patti giurati 
Della patria sull’ ara poso. 

Una selva di lance si scosse 
All’ invito del bellico squillo ; 

Ed all’ombro del sacro vessillo 
Un sol voto discorde non fu : 

E fratelli si strinser le mani 
Dauno Irpino Lucano Sannita; 

Non estinta ma solo sopita 
Era in essi 1’ antica virtu. 

Ma qual suono di trombe festive ? 

Chi s’ avanza fra cento coorti ? 

Ecco il forte che riede tra i forti, 

Che la patria congiunse col re ! 

Oh qual pompa ! Le armate falangi 
Sembran fiumi che inondin le strade : 
Ma su tante migliaia di spade 
Una macchia di sangue non v’e. 

Lieta scena ! Chi plaude, chi piange, 
Chi diffonde viole e giacinti; 

Vincitori confusi coi vinti 
Avvicendano il bacio d’ amor. 

Dalla reggia passando al tugurio 
Non piu finta la gioia festeggia ; 


&06 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


Dal tugurio tornando alia reggia 
Quella gioia si rende maggior. 

Genitrici de’forti campioni 
Convocati dal sacro stendardo, 

Che cercate col pavido sguardo ? 
Non temete ; che tutti son qui. 

Non ri torn an da terra nemica, 
Istrumenti di regio misfatto ; 

Ma dal carnpo del vostro riscatto, 
Dove il ramo di pace fiori. 

0 beata fra tante donzelle, 

O beata la ninfa che vede 

Fra que’prodi 1’ amante, che riede 

Tutto sparso di nobil sudor ! 

II segreto dell’alma pudica 
Le si affaccia sul volto rosato, 

Ed il premio fin ora negato 
La bellezza prepara al valor. 

Cittadini, posiamo sicuri 
Sotto 1’ ombra de’ lauri mietuti: 

Ma coi pugni sui brandi temuti 
Stiamo in guardia del patrio terren. 

Nella pace prepara la guerra 
Chi da saggio previene lo stolto: 

Ci sorrida la pace sul volto, 

Ma ci frema la guerra nel sen. 

Che guardate, gelosi stranieri ? 
Non uscite dai vostri burroni, 

Che la stirpe dei prischi leoni 
Piit nel sonno languente non e ! 

Adorate le vostre catene 
(Chi v’invidia cotanto tesoro?), 

Ma lasciate tranquilli coloro 
Che disdegnan sentirsele al pie. 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


207 


Se verrete, le vostre consorti, 
Imprecando ai vessilli funesti, 

Si preparin le funebri vesti; 

Che speranza per esse non v’ ha 
Sazierete la fame de’ corvi, 
Mercenarie falangi di schiavi: 

In chi pugna pe’dritti degli avi 
Divien cruda la stessa pieta. 

Una spada di libera mano 
E saetta di Giove tonante, 

Ma nel pugno di servo tremante 
Come canna vacilla 1’ acciar. 

Fia trionfo la morte per noi, 

Fia ruggito V estremo sospiro: 

Le migliaia di Persia fuggiro, 

I trecento di Sparta restar ! 

E restaron coi brandi ne’pugni 
Sopra mucchi di corpi svenati, 

E que’pugni, quantunque gelati, 
Rassembravan disposti a ferir. 

Quello sdegno passava nel figlio 
Cui fu culla lo scudo del padre, 

Ed al figlio diceva la madre 
—Quest’esempio tu devi seguir.- 
O tutrice dei dritti dell’uomo 
Che sorridi sul giogo spezzato, 

E pur giunto quel giorno beato 
Che un monarca t’ innalza 1’ altar ! 

Tu sul Tebro fumante di sangue 
Passeggiavi qual nembo fremente, 
Ma serena qual alba ridente 
Sul Sebeto t’ assidi a regnar. 

Una larva col santo tuo nome 
Qui sen venne con alta promessa: 


208 


A.N EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


Noi, credendo che fossi tu stessa, 
Adorammo la larva di te: 

Ma, nel mentre fra gP inni usurpati 
Sfavillava di luce fallace, 

Ella sparve qual sogno fugace, 

Le catene lasciandoci al piA 
Alla fine tu stessa venisti 
Non ombrata da minimo velo, 

Ed un raggio disceso dal cielo 
Sulla fronte ti veggio brillar. 

Coronata di gigli perenni, 

Alla terra servendo d’ esempio, 

Tu scegliesti la reggia per tempio, 

Ove il trono ti serve d’ altar. 

I 

XIY. 

# 

E col mio canto intorno al regio soglio 
Sinceri attrassi cento voti e cento: 

Ma d’ Enrico e di Carlo il pio germoglio 
Pago la fedelta col tradimento, 

E voile in me punir nel truce orgoglio 
Con ceppi e morte il delfico talento; 
Poiclie quel crudo a cui si fido io fui 
Conto le colpe mie coi plausi altrui. 

Tardo avvenir, se mai cantato o scritto 
Ti giunge un inno che ispirato ispira, 
Dell’ escule cantor guarda il delitto, 

E di’ se general' dovea tant’ ira. 

Poiclie mi veggo profugo e proscritto, 

Con piu libera man tempro la lira, 

E per quest’ alma, cui ragion riscliiara, 
Patria e religion non lian che un’ ara. 

Presso quest’ ara, cui mi stringe amore, 
Espio con duol perenne un fallo antico: 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


209 


Dei carmi ond’ esaltai quel traditore 
Mi vergogno mi pento e mi disdico. 

Vili strumenti di si turpe errore, 

O mia lingua e mia man, vi maledico ! 

E mentre impreco a quell’ infame trono, 
Confesso il fallo mio, non mel perdono. 

Secol di liberta che sorger dei, 

II tuo rigor contro me stesso invoco: 

Se t’ imbatti talor nei versi miei 
Che lodano colui, gettali al fuoco. 

Ah, di mia propria man gli struggerei, 

Se non fosser diffusi in piu d’un loco. 

Lodar quell’ empio ed incensarne il serto ? 
Secol di liberta, sprezzami; il merto. 

Entro il tempio di Dio quel prence indegno 
Giuro dinanzi ai sudditi adunati, 

Che il nuovo patto ei sosterria nel regno 
Appo i potenti a nostro danno armati. 

E dove ando ? Corse a comprar lo sdegno 
Di re superbi e d’ avidi soldati! 

Qual fallo in noi voile punir 1’ altero ? 

Quel d’ averlo creduto un uom sincero! 

Ahi stolti! e ci affidammo a quel Fernando 
Che avea di traditor si nera fama, 

E il cui noto a ciascun regno esecrando 
Fu di perfidia una continua trama! 

Il credere ad un uom si abbominando, 

Non buona fe ma cecita si chiama. 

Di quanti ne soffrimmo orridi eccessi 
Lagnamci men di lui che di noi stessi! 

Piu non condanno in altri il bel desio 
Che in essi pullulo fra sdegno e duolo, 

E griderei repubblica pur io, 

Se potesse allignar nel patrio suolo.' 


P 


210 


AN EPOCH OP MY LIFE. 


Popol tradito ed insultato Iddio, 

Fate che cresca il generoso stuolo ! 

Divenga ogni alma a liberta devota, 

AH’ idea del monarca-Iscariota! 

Mentre ver noi tornava (ah, par eh’ io n’ abbia 
La furibonda imago ancor presente !) 

Ruggia di stizza e si mordea le labbia 
Calde dello spergiuro ancor recente. 

L’ assoldata da lui tedesca rabbia 
Contro un popol fedel venia fremente: 

Ne Italia a tergo insurse a braccio armato! 

Ahi stolta, il fato nostro era suo fato! 

XV. 

Tanta vilta non giunse a sgomentarmi; 

Ma di sdegno e rossor 1’ alma mi empi: 

Gridando—All’armi, all’ armi! — 

Corsi la notte e il di; 

Ed i miei carmi 
Suonar cosi. 


XVI. 

Sorgi! che tardi ancora ? 
Tu dormi, Italia ? Ah no ! 
Di liberta 1’ aurora 
Sui colli tuoi spunto. 

Sorgi; e raffrena il corso 
D’ esercito invasor, 

Che porta i segni al dorso 
Del gallico valor! 

Ah, su quel dorso indegno, 
Curvato a servitu 
Imprima un qualche segno 
Pur 1’ itala virtu ! 


f 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


211 


E soffrirai die armati 
Rechin pid ceppi a te 
Que’ sudditi scettrati 
Che ti miravi al pie ? 

Come il valor degli avi 
Poni in oblio cosi ? 

O schiava de’ tuoi schiavi, 

Fosti regina un di! 

Snuda 1’ acciar da forte, 

Ricingi I’ elmo al crin, 

Sorgi: tra vita e morte 
Qui pende il tuo destin ! 

Aperta e gia la strada 
Al nuovo tuo valor: 

Se impugnerai la spada, 

Sarai regina an cor. 

E giunto il tempo omai 
D’uscir di servitu, 

E se sfuggir tel fai 
Non tornera mai piu. 

XVII. 

Ah, di sciaurati che non mai fur vivi 
Pur troppo Italia ha inverminito il seno ! 
Scorra il sangue fraterno a rivi a rivi, 

Non mai l’ignavia lor non mai vien meno. 

O voi di patrio amor del tutto privi, 

Peso e vergogna del natio terreno, 

Se il giogo non vi pesa anzi v’ alletta, 
Sgombrate ormai d’ Italia; Austria v’ aspetta ! 

XVIII. 

Al rimbombar dei timpani vandalici, 

Quasi animati il monte e il pian gemeano, 

E si sentia per tutti i campi italici 
Sordo fragor di conturbato oceano. 


212 


AN EPOCH OE MY LIFE. 


Spergiuro e ipocrisia fra 1’ ostie e i calici 
Nel lor novello patto a due diceano 
(Oh fede greca ed oh perfidia punica!) 

— Scomunica scomunica scomunica ! — 

E greca fede e punica perfidia 
Si strettamente allor si collegarono, 

Ch’ or forza aperta or mascherata insidia 
A danno de’ piu forti adoperarono. 

Eccitava pieta chi fece invidia, 

Molti erraron fuggiaschi, altri migrarono: 

E intanto il clero, per turbar piu gli animi, 
L’ anatema bandia con urli unanimi. 

XIX. 

E in cubitali lettere 
Lo vidi io stesso affigere ; 

Yidi piu ceppi mettere, 

Yidi piu forche erigere, 

E in carceri marittime 
A greggi trar le vittime. 

Nell’ arte di reprimere 
Gli spiriti invincibili 
O con minacce efimere 
O con supplizi orribili, 
Napoletan carnefice, 

Cedi al roman pontefice ! 

XX. 

0 sol che del tuo corso al termin sei 
E quasi pifngi in pluv'ioso cielo, 

Come allor che copristi agli occhi miei 
L’ infausta scena di pietoso velo, 

O il men sognato fra i sognati dei, 
Rad'iante signor di Cirra e Delo, 

Ah, di quella che in mente ancor mi resta 
La cena tiestea fu men funesta! 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


213 


MANZONI’S SONG-. 

IN MORTE DI NAPOLEONE. 

(iL CINQUE MAGGIO.) 

ODE. 

Ei fu ; siccome immobile, 

Dato il mortal sospiro 
Stette la spoglia immemore 
Orba di tanto spiro, 

Cosi percossa, attonita, 

La terra al nunzio sta, 

Muta pensando all’ ultima 
Ora dell’ uom fatale, 

Ne sa quando una simile 
Orma di pie mortale 
La sua cruenta polvere 
A calpestar verra. 

Lui sfolgorante in soglio 
Vide il mio genio e tacque, 
Quando con vece assidua 
Cadde, risorse, e giacque, 

Di mille voci al sonito 
Mista la sua non lia : 

Yergin di servo encomio 
E di codardo oltraggio 
Sorge or commosso al subito 
Sparir di tanto raggio, 

E scioglie all’ urna un cantico, 
Che forse non morra. 


214 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


DalP Alpi alle Piramidi, 

Dal Mansanare al Reno, 

Di quel securo il fulmine 
Tenea dietro al baleno ; 
Scoppio da Scilla al Tanai, 
DalP uno alP altro mar. 

Fu vera gloria ? ai posteri 
L’ ardua sentenza ; nui 
Chiniam la fronte al Massimo 
Fattor, che voile inlui 
Del creator suo spirito 
Piti vasta orma stampar. 

La procellosa e trepida 
Gioia d’ un gran disegno, 

L’ ansia d’ un cor, che indocile 
Ferve pensando al regno, 

E ’1 giunge, e tiene un premio 
C1P era follia sperar. 

Tutto ei provo ; la gloria 
Maggior dopo il periglio, 

La fuga, e la vittoria. 

La reggia, e il triste esiglio, 
Due volte nella polvere, 

Due volte su gli altar. 

E’ si nomo : due secoli, 

L’ un contro P altro armato, 
Sommessi a lui si volsero 
Come aspettando il fato : 

Ei fe’ silenzio, ed arbitro 
S* assise in mezzo a lor : 

Ei sparve, e i di nelP ozio 
Chiuse in si breve sponda, 
Segno d’ immensa invidia, 

E di pieta profonda, 


PAPERS AND NOTES. 


215 


D’ inestinguibil odio, 

E d’ indomaio amor. 

Come sul capo al naufrago 
L’ onda s’ avvolve e pesa, 

L’ onda su cui del misero 
Alta pur dianzi e tesa 
Scorrea la vista a scernere 
Prode remote invan; 

Tal su quell’ alma il cumulo 
Delle memorie scese ; 

Oh ! quante volte ai posteri 
Narrarse stesso imprese, 

E sulle eterne pagine 
Cadde la stanca man ! 

Oh ! quante volte al tacito 
Morir d’un giorno inerte, 
Chinati i rai fulminei, 

Le braccia al sen conserte, 
Stette, e dei di che furono 
L’ assalse il sovvenir. 

Ei ripensb le mobili 
Tende, e i percossi valli, 

E il lampo dei manipoli, 

E 1’ onda dei cavalli, 

E il concitato imperio, 

E il celere obbedir. 

Ahi! forse a tanto strazio 
Cadde lo spirto anelo ; 

E dispero: ma valida 
Venne una man dal cielo, 

E in piu spirabil aere 
Pietosa il trasporto; 


216 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


E 1’ avvib su i floridi 
Sentier della speranza, 

Ai campi eterni, al premio 
Che i desiderii avanza, 

Ov’ & silenzio e tenebre 
La gloria che passo. 

Bella, immortal, benefica 
Fede ai trionfi avvezza, 

Scrivi ancor questo ; allegrati 
Che pih superba altezza 
Al disonor del Golgota 
Giammai non si chino. 

Tu dalle stanche ceneri 
Sperdi ogni ria parola ; 

II Dio che atterra e suscita, 
Che affanna e che consola, 
Sulla deserta coltrice 
Accanto a lui poso. 


217 




LETTERS OF SILVIO PELLICO. 


I. 

Turin , December 14 th, 1838. 
My dearest Arrivabene, 

I received a letter from Signor Erasmo 
Barigozzi, who writes to me with deeply-felt expres¬ 
sions of joy that one of his brothers has embraced 
you in the Canton Ticino only a few days ago. 
Good Erasmo rejoices in giving me this news, and 
says that you are in Italy ! But in the excess of 
his delight he does not explain whether you have 
only come to the Italian part of Switzerland, or 
whether you have obtained permission to cross the 
frontier and return to your country. God grant 
that it may be so ! And, in the meanwhile, be 
assured that your Pellico holds you most affection¬ 
ately in his heart, and desires that you also think of 
him. Write to me something; tell me where you are, 



218 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


and whither you are going; tell me whether you 
are of the number of those who, without longer 
delay, can return to their native homes. Accept this 
brief salutation, and think of me always—always 
and for ever—as your most affectionate friend, 

Silvio Pellico. 


II. 

Turin , February 14 th , 1839. 

My dearest Arrivabene, 

Your second letter gave me great pleasure ; 
but for us, so familiar with affliction, pleasure is 
always mixed with some sentiment of grief. To 
know that you are so near to Italy, and yet obliged 
to renounce your native country, has deeply pained 
me. Nor do I grieve for you alone. This pardon, 
which had so consoled me, was but an illusion! 
I hoped to have seen you all again. But your 
resolution to take calmly this new sorrow is worthy 
of your wise and noble mind. May this serenity 
never abandon you ! I write but little to you; I 
am always in rather bad health; and I could say 
that I am tired of life, if it were not that I know 
what we ought never to say that we are tired of bear¬ 
ing a gift sent to us by God, and that, therefore, we 



LETTERS OF SILVIO PELLICO. 


219 


must continually arm ourselves with gentle patience 
and courage, and bless life as well as death. Let 
us suffer, then, with the resignation and strength of 
soul which He demands: the years fly so rapidly 
that to think one’s sufferings long is folly. Adieu! 
. . . . I press you closely, closely to my heart, 
and am thy 


Silvio Pellico. 


III. 

Turin , April 3, 1843. 

Dearest Arrivabene, 

Here are the books, which I beg you to 
give to Borsieri, and I add a letter for him, and 
another for Porro. I have read with true delight 
your statistical exposition of Belgium. Besides the 
satisfaction of my curiosity, I have experienced that 
pleasure which the writings of men who unite 
goodness of heart to true merit always give. All 
in your thoughts finds sympathy in mine, without 
excepting the word of friendship for Piedmont. 
Your departure grieves me. Give me yet a few 
moments. 


Yours, 


Silvio Pellico. 



220 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


IV. 

Turin, January 1, 1844. 

My dearest Arrivabene, 

A day or two ago, our kind Vilain XI\ 
brought me your letter: it was the best New Year 
gift that he could have offered me. Your friendship 
is dear to me. The illustrious travellers whom you 
mention have not yet been seen at Turin. If the) 
come, I shall visit them with a feeling of veneration 
for their own virtues, but particularly because they 
have consoled you in the days of sorrow. I am very 
glad, dear friend, that you are happy in Brussels— 
as much so as man may be on this earth. I also 
may say the same. Let us bless God in our con¬ 
solations and in our sufferings, and with love let us 
go onward. I know that you have the best wishes 
of every one, and that all appreciate you highly. 
Nevertheless, be faithful to your project of often 
visiting our country. I will endeavour not to die 
yet, that I may have the happiness of seeing you 
again. My health fails me, and is sometimes vej* 
bad ; but the fact is proved to me now by the ex 
perience of some years, that one may continue to 
live on in this poor state of health ; and I do not 
regret it. Greet our friends who are near you. 


LETTERS OE SILVIO PELLICO. 


221 


Be good enough to give the sheet enclosed to my 
Gioberti. 

I embrace you, and am 

Your most affectionate 

\ Silvio Pellico. 

P.S.—Barigozzi, who respects you much, begs 
me particularly to salute you for him. 


Y. 

Turin , 4 th May , 1844. 

Dear Arrivabene, 

Our good Yilain XIV. offers me the op¬ 
portunity of sending you a greeting, and I avail 
myself of it. At the same time, I beg you to give 
the enclosed sheet to Gioberti. Write to me how 
you are, what you are doing, and whether you do 
not intend to come soon to visit your countrymen 
who love you. Present my respects to Saguina, 
Contessa di Lalaing. She will have conveyed to 
you my affectionate remembrance not long since. 
My news is, as usual, not very favourable with re¬ 
spect to my infirmities; I am often worse, then a 
little better, and then worse again. Meanwhile I 
live, and light-heartedness and peace do not fail me 
in the midst of my sufferings. I grieve that I am 



222 


AN EPOCH OF MY LIFE. 


be useless; but what is to be done ? Great is the 
multitude of the useless, and I console myself in 
the number. Or rather I do not console myself, 
but am resigned, and find contentment in loving 
the good, and the praiseworthy things which they 
do. Thus do I love you, my dear Arrivabene, and 
the good which you do. Remember me, if they are 
there, to the Arconati and the Berchet. I am told 
that Confalonieri is returned from Algiers to Milan, 
and that he is well. I have not yet had letters. I 
embrace you, and long to see you. 

Ever yours, 

Silvio Pellico. 


VI. 

Turin , 1th November , 1852. 

My dear Arrivabene, 

I wish to compensate myself in some degree 
to-day by writing to you a few lines of affection. 
How sorry I was yesterday that an urgent engage¬ 
ment made it impossible for me to stay with you! 
It was a promise which I was obliged to fulfil; 
otherwise I should not have deprived myself of 
the pleasure of remaining for some moments with 
so dear a friend. Besides that, your friendship has 



LETTERS OF SILVIO PELLICO. 


223 


been precious to me for so many years, and there are 
bound up in it so many recollections full at once of 
sweetness and of grief! And, remembering how 
well all those good friends of ours who, alas! have 
passed away, loved you, it seems to me as if I had 
become the heir of the affection which they felt for 
you. I should never have thought to have outlived 
my poor Borsieri. The last time I saw him he was 
so troubled at my sufferings, and he seemed in such 
full possession of life, that I felt certain myself of 
soon dying, and leaving him still far from his end. 
Latterly, I had not heard of the failure of his health; 
and when the sudden news of his death reached me, 
my heart was broken. My infirmities are, as you 
see, of that kind which are slow in killing; but I 
suffer always. I was better last year at Rome and 
at Naples. I returned in the spring, and the 
improvement did not continue. Patience and 
courage unto the end! Let us adore the will of 
God, and confide in His goodness! Keep well, my 
dear Arrivabene, and preserve a good place for me 
in your friendship. 


Yours, 

Silvio Pellico. 


THE END. 



LONDON: 

Strangeways & Walden, Printers, 
28 Castle St. Leicester Sq. 


H 18 8 






*n - . * A 



^ * 

4> .V 

* O v % .»*•• 


,« ?.° '%. . 

...» .0° ,*« 

• ••'- 'o, «9* *!*•*_ v v 


^ a v 1 
k ° 

** V • 

»* <G* v 

4 C° y^r. °o 



^ A*& * 

• ^ r 4> * 

' vP V * 

*" A V -^ : 

J? .•*..V - •'/' .. .;% 

<T> I r<SV. * *P >0 ^ ,*o/r?9'l. ■» ° 

«N < «5nnn\\Vi v ^k * „ 0 * i &<ilf/7^ *, v 

'J'U <P O - *P» _4 




*. V.** : 
*** * < 

• <v>V •' 
■%* ^ ^ ° 


o K 



V ^ ^ • 



* A <■> ‘'TV.’ . 0 V ^ 

a*% ^,C*. » 



® >>P ^ 

- 4 . ' • • • • A 0 %.*»•’•<«*■ °4- * 

'* ^ *9 V ** • «.. *> v C\. 

^•- W ^ •^ l * ' 

■ ^ ^'V *.W: ^ 

•* ■*> * 0 , ,* a <*•. 

vj . _ 6 o * «> # 

j 17 • € s$5SW’* ^ C ♦ V//^. * 0 ^ 





'♦ .0 V * * *** *> 
b*> % .A .’aVa'. 


A v^, : 

■/ ♦♦ ** • 

* A <* *■'7.* , 

<<T %*^§8to<* *V 0° ♦* 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment DateiJM £G02 


* A o, 

■ » 'xyy/tu^ V ^ ^ ^ 

^ ^TTs*'' ^ °o. % T.^ PreservationTechnologies 

> # »•*** CT^ A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 

I * ^ v HI Thomson PeirK Drive 

/ 4 r 0 %>. AV * / Cranberry Township. PA 16066 

7A\ v< % 


( 724 ) 779-2111 



• .0* "O • A 

\ A 4 ' “ 

*; > 4 

° 3$* "Ki 

°* ••••• *°° V or,-*, 

rO V ^ V S 



<> '- 77 .'.cT ^ * 





A v-* :' 

;* ^ • 


o 

,.° ^ V. °-> 

• \g* V 

* $ . - *o ^ ® 

> <<?5 < ~^ «o tO * 7 *. * 

* V _ * %»'l\W$ir' ' v’ « 

.. °*'*•*»’* a°° ^ ‘♦rr.** ,, 

> V *«V». o c»v _ , .« 'V. <V 


O 

o 

JC 

o 


V ^ 





kCt o, %, 4 < a /V <#v • 

0 .V/.?*. O o ^ ,o^ .•*'*■> **b 



HECKMAN 

BINDERY INC. 

*, DEC 89 


_, N. MANCHESTER, 

INDIANA 46962 


$> ' • # ' ’ 

> *v 

»: <W ‘ 


: W 






